A Twisted Fairytale
by Mistress Sezza
Summary: Loki is not your average Prince, and Natasha is certainly no Princess, so their fairytale is a little...twisted. And with a new threat looming on the horizon, can Natasha thaw Loki's frozen heart and convince him to aid the Avengers? Or is she merely falling right into Loki's ploy? And why the hell does Tony have pink hair dye in the first place?
1. The Dreams

**A/N: Right, so this will be my first multi-chaptered fanfic, I have already written the majority of the story and so I will be updating weekly (Cause there's nothing that annoys me more than when an awesome story doesn't get updated in forever). So I'd love everyone to review, tell me what you think or if you have suggestions or questions, even constructive criticism is helpful. Anyway, enough from me, on with the show!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers, Marvel, any of the character, blah, blah, blah…**

**WARNINGS: This story WILL contain – smut (lots of smut), language, violence, non-con situations, mentions of torture, and all that other angsty goodness **

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Chapter 1. The Dreams

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It all started with the dreams... the feel of his cool skin pressed against hers, smooth lips and hot tongue ravishing her mouth, chest, stomach. He rolls in her, around her, everywhere. Feverent whispers caress her ears and the friction between their bodies create an electricity that she could never have imagined. And all too soon her burning orgasm rips her violently from that tantalising dream, leaving her with only wet panties and the lingering burn of bright green eyes and the scream of his name on her lips.

Natasha smooths her hand over her frazzled hair and flops back down onto the pillow. She closes her eyes to try and regain control of her erratic breathing, but green eyes smirk down at her from the darkness, so she presses the palms of her hands against her eyelids until that burning green is replaced by flickering white spots.

Natasha slides out from under the covers and fumbles down the corridor in the dark to the bathroom. She flings her wet panties into the hamper with a look of disgust and leans heavily on the sink, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Taking deep, calming breaths and gazing into her own blue eyes, she mentally resurrects the walls around her mind.  
It had been months since Thor had taken his brother, bound and muzzled like a rabid dog, back to God-knows-where, and yet that bastard Loki was still managing to somehow play mind tricks on her. These dreams were his doing, she was sure of it, no way would her mind ever think up something as sick and twisted as this.

Her sex life was nothing to get excited about, but she liked it that way. No awkward dates or complicated sex etiquettes, sometimes she'd have a fling with Clint if she felt like it, but she knew there was no way she could ever love him in the way that he loved her. Sure, she cared for him and they made a great team, but she was positive that love could no longer exist for her... she was too dark and twisted a creature for love.

"_Love is for children..."_

The mantra from her Red Room days echoed in her mind.

She turned on the tap and splashed the cold water onto her face, trying to clear her mind of the dirty dreams. She grabbed a towel and dried her face, glancing back up in the mirror she saw a flash of emerald green eyes and unruly black hair reflected behind her. She spun around with a gasp but there was no one there. She peered more closely into the darkness, waiting for a face to appear again...

'_BRIIING!' _The sudden loud noise made Natasha jump. She mentally berated herself when she realised it was her phone ringing.

"Hey Nat, just got back from Latveria, did I wake you?"

"Nah, I was already up." Natasha replied as she began dressing herself one-handed.

"Yeah, Doom's been acting up again. Something about a chemical bomb…" Clint told her as she made her way to her living room and curled up on the couch. She knew she wouldn't be getting back to sleep tonight so she may as well enjoy the chance to catch up with her partner and closest friend.

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In this one she was running from him. The tranquillity of the evergreen forest with its sun-dappled leaves and choir of birds was harshly disturbed by her bare footfalls and heavy panting. Though she hadn't seen him yet, she somehow knew exactly who she was running from.

She didn't know why, but she had on some ridiculously girly, white frilly dress. That was proof to her that _he_ was controlling her dreams, as she would never in her right mind wear something as, as..._cutesy _as this.

As Natasha tore through the forest, the moss-covered floor abruptly gave way beneath her feet and suddenly she was falling, falling, the forest becoming a blur of green and gold above her head before she found herself ungraciously deposited on a wooden floor. Natasha groaned and rolled onto her hands and knees.

This may be a dream but apparently she could still feel pain.

She took in her surroundings as she slowly rose to her feet. She seemed to be in a great library, though it was nothing like any library she had seen before. The floors and walls were made of a dark wood but the ceiling must have been at least twelve feet above her head and shone like gold. She could barely make out the figures painted on the bright surface – a mural of some kind.

But the most peculiar thing about the enormous library was that there were no shelves, instead the books seemed to just _float._ Thousands of books were lined neatly as if the shelves were invisible, but when Natasha curiously reached out a hand it merely passed between one book and the next – there was nothing there.

Inquisitively, Natasha walked down the aisles and aisles of books, all thoughts of her pursuer suddenly gone. She finally came to an opening in the books and found what was obviously a reading area. Two Camelbacked sofas and a chaise lounge surrounded a highly ornamental ebony table on a hand-woven silk rug. All the seats looked like they came right out of an 18th century castle, upholstered in fine red velvet with a dark mahogany finish and golden pillows with little tassels on the corners. Two floor-to-ceiling windows stood behind the sitting area, but the outside light was muted by the fine semi-permeable curtains that billowed gracefully in the gentle breeze. All in all it gave off a largely royal effect.

Natasha wandered over to the chaise lounge and gingerly fingered the intricately carved dark wood of its arm when, without warning, she found herself being flung over the arm and facedown into the lush lounge.

She tried to lift herself up only to find a tight grip on the back of her neck holding her down. She kicked out with her left leg only to have that held fast too. Suddenly she was being hoisted up by her ankle and realised horrifyingly that the flimsy white dress was literally the only thing she was wearing...

"My, my, my." Loki purred as Natasha grabbed at her hem and attempted miserably to cover herself. She tried to kick with her other leg but failed to connect, and she couldn't use her hands without letting go of her dress and exposing herself, so instead she resorted to 'the Death Stare'. But instead of its usual effect, all the Stare got was a chuckle.  
"Oh, I do love the feisty ones." He said with a predatory grin.

Gripping her ankle, he flung her into the sofa, sending it toppling backwards to the floor with a crack. In an instant he was on top of her again. He grabbed a fistful of her dress and with one swift motion he tore the fabric from her body. Naked and vulnerable now, she threw a punch that connected with his jaw but he seized both her wrists and pinned them above her head.

She bucked and struggled but her body was trapped beneath his. Loki bent his head and licked a long line from her clavicle to behind her ear, involuntarily she shivered and arched her neck. He chuckled darkly in her ear, a sound that made her fingers tingle and heat pool in her belly.

"Don't struggle," he all but growled, "you know as much as I do that you want this. You can't hide anything from me."  
She stopped struggling, captivated by his green eyes that danced with mischief and lust. Unexpectedly his lips crashed upon hers, bruising and passionate, his tongue parted her lips and delved into her mouth, eliciting a moan from her. Her mind was screaming to fight him but for some reason her body wouldn't respond.

He pulled away from her and fixed her with a look so lustful that she thought it would burn a hole right through her. She gasped as he kissed his way down her chest, between her breasts. He let go of her wrists and used his newly freed hands to squeeze her breasts.

As his kisses burned a red hot trail down her stomach, her mind became blank, all thoughts of fighting vanished, along with her sense of wrong and right apparently, because she knew this was wrong but that didn't stop it from feeling so, very, _right_...

His name fell from her lips as his tongue slipped between her legs. She could feel him smirk against her thigh as his tongue caused her to moan out loud, but she didn't care, just as long as he didn't stop.

She could feel the heat and pressure building like fire in her belly, and she rolled her hips up into him, desperate to feel more of his devilish tongue. Her hands had lain forgotten above her head until she thought to wrap them in his hair, using them to pull his mouth closer.

"Loki, wait..." she gasped. She could feel her climax building but she didn't want this to end, she wanted to experience more of him. But Loki didn't stop, didn't even slow down and all too soon she felt herself falling over the edge, followed by her own voice groaning Loki's name and those green eyes dancing with pleasure...

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Natasha opened her eyes to find herself back in her own room. She laid there for a moment, trying to rid her mind of yet another disturbing dream. Her body was heavy with the light sheen of sweat that covered it.

As she moved to find a cooler spot, she felt the sticky wetness between her legs. The sexual tension and the loss of control over her own body infuriated her, and Natasha let the anger build up until she had to jam a pillow over her head and scream in frustration like an angsty teenager. She closed her eyes and waited for her heart rate to slow, when there was a sudden crackling sound. She flung the pillow across the room and tore out of bed and into a fighting stance, only to come face to face with the real-life Loki.

"Good evening, Miss Romanov."

He spread his arms wide in greeting and his grin matched. Natasha stood stunned for a moment before coming to her senses and lunging for the gun on her bedside table, only to find it wasn't there. "Must we really resort to violence?"  
She turned back to Loki to find her Glock 26 hovering above his palm, and with one flick of his wrist it disappeared.

Natasha eyed him cautiously, "What do you want?" She growled.

His grin widened and he chuckled in the same way he had in those haunting dreams. "Oh Natasha, I couldn't let you have all the fun by yourself."

She snarled at him, he could see the hatred and loathing behind her eyes. "Bastard." She muttered before aiming a swift roundhouse kick at his head. He evades it easily and laughs, "Violence it is then."

Loki blocks her incoming punches easily, it enrages her the way he so calmly deflects her attacks, so she throws everything at him. Right hook, back fist, knee to the ribs, side kick to the solar plexus. That last one winded him, so she continued her flurry of attacks until finally one of her punches landed on his perfect cheekbone.

The instantaneous change in Loki's expression was frightening. His cocky smirk slid off his face like a fat raindrop down a windowpane and his once mischievous green eyes narrowed. Before Natasha could even drop back into a defensive stance, Loki had grabbed her by the throat and thrown her across the room like a rag doll.

She hit the wall with a loud thud and fell to her hands and knees.

He strode across the room before she could get to her feet and lifted her up by the collar of her nightshirt. "Is that any way to treat a guest?" He said the words calmly but his eyes burned with fire.

He dropped her suddenly, sending her crashing backward into the footboard of her bed. Seething with rage, Natasha spun on her back and kicked off the footboard, flinging herself along the floorboards between Loki's legs and taking them out as she passed.

She turned quickly on one knee and aimed a kick at Loki's head as he stumbled. She turned and sprinted down the hallway, heading for the kitchen and her other gun.

With Loki right behind her, Natasha grabbed a knife from the block on the kitchen bench and flung it at him, giving her enough time to rip open the kitchen drawer and reach her gun. But Loki was quick, knocking the Walther PPK/S out of her hands and sending it skidding across the floor and into the lounge room.

Kicking him in the chest, Natasha made a dash for the weapon but Loki caught her and threw her into her faded blue couch. He was on top of her in a heartbeat, a knee in her back and a large, pale hand grasping her wrists. Her silk nightgown rode up around her waist as she squirmed and struggled, trying to buck him off.

Suddenly the slap of skin on skin caused her bottom to radiate with pain as Loki's hand connected with it. She cried out but stilled.

She felt his weight shift and his warm breath was suddenly in her ear. "This is much better don't you think?" He purred, sending a shiver down her spine that she didn't entirely think was fear.

"You beneath me, half naked and..." he slipped one long finger between her legs, "_dripping_." He breathed, causing a small moan to escape her lips.

Disgusted with herself, she bit down on her lip. She had withstood hours of torture without making a single sound, she could handle his games. But torture didn't cause her body to tingle all over, nor give her the urge to arch in to his touch. His lips ghosted her ear and when his tongue flicked out and licked a long line from her ear down her neck, she had to bite her lip harder to keep from moaning again.

"Tell me little spider, does this remind you of your wicked dreams?" Loki's fingers trailed circles on her inner thigh.  
"I don't know what you're talking about." She ground out between gritted teeth.

"Well then, maybe this will jog your memory." And with his free hand he grabbed the back of her shirt and with one violent tug he ripped it from her body.

He yanked her wrists backwards so she was forced onto her knees. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulled her flush against his chest so he could lean forward and whisper in her ear, "Do not fight me, little spider. We both know you want this."

His lips ghosted over her neck and shoulder while his hand wandered up from her hip to grasp her breast hard, pinching her nipple and causing her to gasp in pain and pleasure.

"To escape your sins, you bathe yourself in more sin. You lie and kill in the service of liars and killers." As he spoke, his fingers dipped down into her panties and found their way inside her. She bit her lip so hard to keep from moaning that she could taste blood. "You claim to be redeeming yourself through death and destruction, but we both know it's purely because you enjoy the death and the destruction!" His fingers were long and lightning fast, reaching all the spots that would normally make her scream.

She let her head drop back onto his shoulder, panting heavily, and squeezed her eyes shut, still refusing to make a sound.

"You think yourself above me, when in reality you wish you were by my side! Little spider, you suffer the worst kind of deformity – a warrior with a conscience."

And with that final jab, Loki spun her around and shoved her forwards to land against the back of the couch. A tingling sensation encircled her wrists and when she tried to pull away, she found that her wrists had been magically chained to the couch.

Natasha struggled against her invisible shackles, twisting and pulling, and looked over her shoulder to find that Loki was suddenly as naked as she was.

Unwittingly her eyes travelled downwards, "Svyatoye der'mo" she breathed, her eyes widening. For the first time tonight Natasha felt a jolt of pure fear.

The sound of Loki's laughter forced her to tear her eyes away and bring them up to meet his. He pressed his body against hers and the feeling of his bare skin was electric, it made Natasha's hairs stand on end. His breath was hot on the back of her neck, "I will make you never want another."

His honey-coated words and the feeling of him finally, finally entering her proved more than all the torture resistance training in the world and Natasha let out a loud moan. That only made Loki thrust into her harder and soon he was steadily riding her into the couch, one hand tangled in her hair and the other squeezing and pinching her breast.

Natasha struggled against her restraints at first but with each increasingly powerful thrust, she found it was all she could do to hold on to the couch for dear life. The musky scent of sex and Loki suffocated her and his fingers blazed a trail of fire wherever they roamed.

She lost all sense of thought and time, her mind was numb and all she could feel were the waves of pleasure pushing her closer and closer to the edge. She could hear Loki grunting and her own moans, though the blood rushing in her ear made it sound like they were underwater.

When her climax came, Natasha didn't even realise she was screaming Loki's name, her orgasm so intense it blinded and deafened her. Pleasure shot through her, coursing through her body and down to every extremity, making her tingle all over.

As Natasha came down from her high, she felt a warm dripping sensation down the back of her thigh and realised that Loki had pulled out. She tried to get her breath back and as she turned to face him, she realised that her wrists were no longer magically bound.

She looked up at him; he was fully clothed once again and did not look at all dishevelled as she must look.  
Still breathing heavily she caught his eye. The green seas betraying lust and smugness as he watched her lay naked and spent on the couch while he stood calm and controlled above her. He smirked, turning on his heel he began to walk away.

"Loki" she called out, and he stopped.

"Give me back my gun." He turned abruptly with a grin on his face and, from nowhere, flung her Glock 26 towards her. She snatched it from the air with both hands and aimed it at him, but in a swirl of green he was gone.

She held her position, wary that he might pop up somewhere else, but after a few moments she slowly lowered her arms. She glanced around the room and, with a sigh, she flopped back into the couch, she let her arm fall and heard the gun clatter to the floor.

She closed her eyes.

She could have sworn she saw him wink.


	2. The Tower

**A/N: Not really any warnings for this chapter, you're safe….for now (cue evil laugh).**

**Please review!**

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Chapter 2. The Tower

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She found herself at the gym, long after the mischievous demi-god had left her. She had already contacted Director Fury and, as expected, her new mission was to continue liaisons with Loki as long as safely possible and gather as much information from him as she could.

The Director also agreed with her wishes to keep her little side mission from the other Avengers for the time being.

Her hands and feet worked over the punching bag, her body automatically going through the motions that had been ingrained into her as a child, allowing her mind to wander free.

She wasn't exactly happy about her new assignment but orders were orders. Natasha felt anger bubble to the surface as she pounded the bag, both furious and disgusted that she allowed Loki to compromise her thoughts like that.

She had to be stronger, better. He was their enemy, he was an evil, conniving, manipulative, murderer. He had killed people, civilians who had not deserved to die at the hands of Loki.

The same hands that had just moments ago caused her body to writhe in pleasure despite herself.

Her disgust fuelled her rage and strength. It felt good to release her anger, relishing the physical exertion and embracing the feel of the muscles in her body contracting and releasing in perfect unison, dealing blow after blow to the defenceless punching bag.

She hated Loki. Hated him with every fibre of her being and she would be glad to take him down.

And yet, despite all her hate and her rage, a deeply buried corner of her heart felt a strange affinity with him – they both had darkness in their souls, his slightly more twisted than hers, but it was this strange sentiment and her own morbid curiosity that drew the Black Widow irrevocably to the God of Evil.

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"Whoa, Nat, you look like shit." Clint told her with all the tact of a raging bull.

Natasha froze for a split second, terrified that somehow her best friend could tell just by looking at her what had happened last night. But no, he couldn't possibly know, she must just look more tired than usual.

Recovering her senses, Natasha just rolled her eyes at him as she made her way further into the SHIELD common room to pour herself a cup of much needed coffee. She heard a snort from over the back of the faded blue couch.

"Ladies and gentlemen – Clint Barton, Lady-killer." Tony Stark's head followed his sarcastic comment from behind the couch.

Natasha let a smirk cross her face before turning back to the small kitchenette.

"Seriously though Nat," Clint probed, "are you still having trouble sleeping?"

"I'm fine, Clint." She brushed him off and evaded his concerned look, turning instead to Tony.

"Stark." She greeted as she poured dark brown liquid into the least chipped mug she could find.

"Didn't pick you for one who'd willingly lounge around within grasp of where Fury or someone could actually put you to work."

Stark waved his hand at her dismissively, "As if Fury could _actually_ make me work."

Natasha plopped herself down at the table next to Clint and spread the SHIELD files she had been carrying in front of her.

"He's waiting for his science buddy." Clint replied to her unanswered question.

Natasha's eyebrows shot up, "Bruce is flying in?"

Tony strolled over and leaned against the table, crossing his arms over the faint circular glow beneath his AC/DC shirt.

"Yeah, got a new science project I want his help with." Stark beamed and his eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. "See, I've been going over the data from when all that hoo-doo voo-doo magic stuff was going on during the New York fiasco, and the energy readings aren't as unpredictable as we thought."

The genius's hands danced about excitedly as he tried to explain his theory to the two assassins who had absolutely _no _idea what he was talking about.

"So if we could figure out an algorithm that could contradict the peaks in energy levels, then maybe I could build something that…" He trailed off suddenly and looked up at the agents with a look of horror replacing his excitement. "Oh wait – I don't think I was supposed to tell you guys…"

He scratched the back of his head sheepishly and grimaced. Clint just laughed out loud and Natasha fought the urge to facepalm. Stark shrugged it off, "Eh, I never was good at secrets."

"Well," Clint leaned back and balanced precariously on the hind legs of his chair, "all we need now is Cap and Thor and it'll be a regular old Avengers reunion."

Natasha drained the last of her coffee, "Well, I don't know about Thor, but Steve got back from LA this morning."

Clint raised a brow quizzically at her. "How do you know?"

"Because he finally figured out how to send a text message." She smirked, pulling out her phone and showing them Steve's message that informed her of his homecoming – it was all in caps.

Both Tony and Clint chuckled to themselves.

"Alright, it's decided then!" Stark clapped his hands together in glee, "Shawarma and drinks at mine? I think it's time you all got the grand tour of the new and improved Stark Tower. The top floor is _amazing_, I've decked out all your rooms, _and_ there's now an indoor Jacuzzi and sauna."

Natasha's eyebrows were now somewhere in her hairline. "Wait, wait. Back up, we have our _own rooms_?" She questioned, her voice an octave or two higher than normal.

"Well, yeah," Stark frowned at her as if to say _'duh'_, "all ass-kicking superheros need an awesome hideout. Batman had the Batcave, Superman had the Fortress of Solitude, Spiderman had… well I have no idea, but you get the point."

Natasha stared incredulously at Stark for a moment before turning to Clint, begging him to back her up.

Instead, Clint looked awestruck. "Hey man, you had me at Jacuzzi." He and Stark high-fived.

"Right then, Thursday night! You two better be there. I'll go tell the others!" The billionaire rubbed his hands together gleefully and strode purposefully from the room before Natasha could protest.

Clint beamed at her and Natasha groaned. "Oh god."

Clint snorted at her. "You didn't seem to mind so much the last "family reunion" we had." He pointed out as she gathered her completed paperwork in her arms.

"Hey, alcohol makes everything better, even shawarma." She smirked. "I'm dropping these off to Agent Hill," she waved the papers in her hand, "Catch you 'round, Clint."

"Hey, wait." Clint called to her as she pushed open the door. His eyes searched hers, trying to pull the truth from her soul with his gaze, though not even Clint could read her when she didn't want to be read.

"You sure you're okay, Nat?" His eyes begged the truth from her, and it pained her that she could not give it to him.

She flashed him a bright smile, "I'm fine Clint. Trust me." He looked like he was about to say more, but a familiar face saved her. She tilted her head in greeting to the fellow agent, and used his appearance as a diversion for her escape.

As she left the room, she heard Clint become successfully distracted. "Hey, you're back! How was Tahiti?"

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"Okay. So the bottom few floors are business – Pepper made me put them in there." Tony rolled his eyes.

They were riding up the elevator of the newly renovated Stark Tower, Tony pointing out what was on each floor as they passed. The elevator doors were made of reinforced glass so as they came up to each level they could see out onto the floor.

The back wall of the elevator was mirrored and, of all things, a _mini chandelier_ lit the lift.

Natasha was tempted to roll her eyes at the gaudiness of it all.

"Tenth floor is the conference room," Stark continued, and Natasha caught a glimpse of a long, oval table of polished wood with a large flat-screen at one end of the room.

"Oh, and the basement has interrogation rooms and holding cells and whatnot, y'know, for the next evil supervillian; plus, I borrowed a quinjet from Fury so that's down there too."

Steve raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "Fury just _let_ you have a quinjet?" Tony slung an arm around Steve's shoulders, must to his discomfort.

"Don't worry Spangles, I gave it a paint job, he won't even know the difference!" Tony whispered conspiratorially. Steve just shook his head and smiled exasperatedly.

"Then, we've got ten floors of R & D labs, just like I promised Bruce. I'll show you all that stuff later. Ah, here we go."

The elevator doors opened with a ping and they filed out, Tony leading the way.

"That there," Stark pointed to a large black automatic door that was inset in a wooden frame, "is my own personal home cinema. Totally soundproof, 3D capable, and JARVIS will play anything you want."

Clint let out a low whistle, "Anything? Oh Steve, I am so making you watch Avatar." Steve looked puzzled but decided it would be best not to ask.

"Nat and Barton, you guys will love this one." Tony led them to the next set of doors which slid open for him. "The firing range and weaponry storage. And weapon you can think of plus a state-of-the-art targeting system with thirty levels ranging from beginner to impossible. Though, I kinda think JARVIS only put the last one in for a laugh."

Tony frowned as he picked up the control pad.

Natasha smirked to herself, she was so trying out impossible the first chance she got.

"_Nice_." Clint nodded in appreciation. "Yeah, and check this out."

Stark pressed a button on the control pad and a number of virtual dummies popped up in the arena, big red targets painted on their chests. Stark pressed a few more buttons and the dummies were replaced with holograms of Loki.

The inky hair and green eyes sneered down at her, and instinctively Natasha stiffened.

Clint laughed, "Finally, I can put that arrow through his eye. What buttons did you press?"

He moved over to Stark as Tony showed him how to use the controls. Natasha stared at the holograms.

She imagined one of Clint's arrows sticking out of one of those emerald orbs, blood splattered around the empty socket. She couldn't decide if that would make her happy or not.

Stark showed them through the kitchen and gym, and the indoor pool, Jacuzzi and sauna. For some reason, the boys were ridiculously keen to try the latter, though Natasha didn't see how sitting in a room full of man sweat and steam would be exciting.

The next floor was Tony's bar and lounge and the landing pad, the floors following that were their assigned rooms.

Their rooms were of a similar layout; a king sized bed faced a wall with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city, comfy lounge chairs and sofas adorned the area and each room had its own ensuite with a deep sunken bath that Natasha was dying to sink into with a nice glass of red.

Each room was themed, unfortunately with Tony's ironic sense of humour, to its owner.

Bruce's room had a green and white colour scheme, as Stark told a slightly perturbed Bruce that he thought it would be calming. A tiny Zen garden sat in the corner of the room, Bruce pointed to it.

"I like that."

"Yeah, that was Pepper's idea. This was my design input."

He strode into the room and plucked a pair of giant green fists off the wall and put them on. "Check this out." He grinned and knocked the fists together. They emitted an electronic roar, followed by a tinny voice that growled, '_HULK SMASH!'_

"That's cute." Banner smirked as Tony and Clint both doubled over in laughter.

Steve's room was themed in red, white and blue. His bedspread was striped in each colour and his pillowcases were American flags. 1940's style posters adorned the walls and an old record player sat in the corner, the shelf above it housing dozens of old records.

They peeked into Thor's room, which was decorated in reds and golds with a fake stone fireplace drawing attention to the centre of the room.

Clint's room was a little more subtle but included mostly maroon in its colour scheme. Decorative bows hung on the walls and a small display cabinet held the various designs of arrowheads through the ages.

Natasha was a little anxious to see her room, but was pleasantly surprised to find that it was not as gaudy as she had been imagining.

The king bed had deep red sheets and was made of a dark wood with matching bedside tables. A sturdy desk filled with solvent, cleaning rods and jags – everything she would need to keep her guns clean – sat against the far wall.

Next to the cherry-wood dresser stood a dark-painted shoji screen, its paper decorated with golden lines that depicted onion-shaped domes and pointy towers which she quickly recognised as the Moscow skyline.

"It's not quite as exciting, but Pepper wouldn't let me hang a giant cobweb in the corner." Tony pouted, and Natasha silently thanked Pepper.

Tony's room was the ultimate bachelor pad. Complete with a bar and a baby grand piano, floating stairs led to a loft where a chandelier of delicate crystals hung above the biggest bed Natasha had ever seen.

However, Stark was most excited to show them the roof.

"Pepper said I didn't have a romantic bone in my body. Needless to say, I proved her wrong." Stark boasted with a wink.

The elevator opened up to a pathway of white pebbles which crunched underfoot. Various trees and hedges lined the walls, giving the place privacy. The fragrance of different flowers invaded Natasha's senses and their bright splashes of colour lit up the roof.

The path curled around to reveal a perfectly manicured grass area which opened up to a deck that overlooked the city, decorated with sunken lounge areas and a plethora of cushy pillows.

What was most impressive, however, was the miniature waterfall that trickled from the tip of Stark Tower and collected in a crystal clear pool in the centre of the roof and connected to a tiny river which flowed across and surrounded the grassy lawn. The rocks that lined the banks were smooth and seemed to sparkle slightly, and Natasha wondered where on earth they had come from.

"Stark," she said carefully, "I'm actually impressed."

Tony clutched at his chest and feigned as if he was having a heart attack. She rolled her eyes and she heard the others snicker behind her.

She normally made a point never to compliment Stark as his head was already inflated enough, but this _was _impressive. Natasha mused that, even if she didn't move in to Stark Tower, she would visit purely to sit on this rooftop.

"Okay guys, shawarma or pizza? Your call." The others headed back towards the elevator, arguing over food preferences. Natasha hesitated for a moment, trying to take in as much of the small slice of paradise as she could, before following them down.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

In a dark, dank prison cell on Asgard, Loki the God of Lies had a rather unwelcome visitor.

"Did you think I would not make good on my promise, little prince?" Thanos' presence permeated the room, swathed in haze and darkness. Even though it was not his true body that was present, he still managed to leech the air with the stench of fear and death.

"Your experiences of my wrath before your miserable, failed invasion attempt were mere_ warnings_ in comparison to punishments I have in store for you now."

The mottled, purple face grinned, anticipating sadism. And though Loki did not betray a hint of it, inside he was shaking at the reminded of the pain, the invasion, the feeling of being unravelled, unmade, the pain, the pain, the _pain_...

Instead, Loki smirked as if none of those horrors passed unbidden through his mind.

"Well that seems rather excessive, especially when I have a much better plan which I think you will want to hear." He drawled, the picture of smug confidence.

Thanos sneered, "King of Liars, do not assume you can talk your way out. I promised that you would long for something as sweet as pain for your failure, your desperate schemes hold no interest for me."

And here Loki grinned, he knew he had him.

"Ah, but I do believe they will. For my schemes involve you in possession of a powerful weapon which Asgard coverts most dearly, a weapon which will surely please your Lady in the sheer volume of death and destruction it can achieve. This is how you will achieve your goal, this is how you will woo Death, and this is how you will decimate all Nine Realms."

Loki held Thanos' gaze, willing him to be pulled into his web. He was silent for a long time and Loki's heart thudded painfully, wondering if he had come across too strong, if he had pushed too hard too fast, if the War Titan could see right through him and would cart him off to make good on his promise.

"I'm listening." Thanos finally obliged, and Loki couldn't help the dark smirk that split his face.


	3. The Subjugation

Chapter 3. The Subjugation

* * *

_You let me violate you  
You let me desecrate you  
You let me penetrate you  
You let me complicate you_

_~ "Closer", Nine Inch Nails_

* * *

The next time he came to her, she tried to understand why.

"Why are you doing this? Why me?" She asked with a strained voice.

His strong, pale fingers were clasped around the base of her throat, not choking her, but just tight enough to cause pressure on her larynx. She felt his breath tickle the back of her neck as he pinned her to the bedroom wall with his hard body.

"Why not?" He answered, and she could practically feel his smirk.

"We all were made to kneel for something."

It was barely a whisper and Natasha felt he was talking more to himself than to her. His breath caressed her skin as nimble fingers unzipped the little black dress she was wearing and slipped it over her hips so that it pooled at her feet.

She had just returned from a surveillance mission of a wealthy drug dealer who owned a series of clubs to find the Asgardian Prince waiting for her in her apartment.

"That's not what I'm asking." She gasped as his teeth sunk into her shoulder. "I'm asking why _you _want _me_."

She felt him tense behind her and she wondered if her words had somehow made him angry. Suddenly, he grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around to face him. His eyebrows furrowed over the deep emerald pools as his gazed scorched her.

"Do not feign naivety with me, little spider, you know as well as I do that you are a beautiful woman."

She returned his stare defiantly.

"But a mortal woman."

She retorted with a frown, crossing her arms over her chest. He stared at her a few moments longer, his expression unreadable, before letting go of her shoulders and stepping back with a smirk.

"Beauty is beauty, no matter which realm it hails from."

He looked her up and down like a predator eyes its prey. Natasha merely raised an eyebrow at him.

"Flattery won't get you anywhere."

Infamous smirk still in place, Loki waved his hand through the air and Natasha's bra disappeared from under her still crossed arms. She gasped and covered her breasts quickly with her hands, scowling at the mischievous god.

"On the contrary my dear," he purred, stalking towards her once more, "flattery will get you _everywhere_."

He grasped her wrists and pulled her hands away roughly, Natasha tried and failed to pull out of his iron grip.

"Why come here? Why risk escape from your prison to return to the place that defeated you?" She held his gaze, stone faced.

"I am no fool, Miss Romanov, no one will know of these visits, the guards are too daft to even realise that I am not truly inside my cell." He pushed her back against the wall.

"And if I told Thor you're running around Earth while he's not looking?"

He smirked, gripping both her wrists in one hand and yanking them up above her head.

"Try it." He hissed.

Restrained and frustrated, Natasha glared at the Prince icily, and the words were out of her mouth before she even realised.

"I hate you."

Loki blinked slowly at her once before breaking out in a wide grin. He gave a dark chuckle that sent shivers down her spine before pulling her sharply towards him, crushing her against his lean, hard body. She felt a familiar tingling sensation that she recognised as her wrists being magically bound together above her, and she felt Loki's cool breath on her neck as he bent down low to whisper darkly in her ear.

"You should."

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

It was a combination of things that led to the subjugation of Natasha Romanov. Over the next few weeks, he came to her several more times, stepping through her mirror with a crackle of energy. Each time he took her roughly, controlling her every moan and whimper, every orgasm.

She would never admit it, but he was right in a way, she was made to be ruled, and she loved being ruled by him. In a strange way, when he took control, it was the only time she was ever truly free.

No assassinations, no missions. No murdering, lying or deception.

Just allowing herself to revel in the experience of _feeling _for a change, even if the feeling was only lust.

She loves it. Loves the way he makes her body ache all over and the way he ties her wrists and teases her until she's almost insane with longing. In all her dark years of life, no man has ever made her feel so alive. She had always been so cold, detached from sentiment, from feeling – from everything. But he ignites her spark.

The other thing was that he was just so _damaged_.

It was something she thought no one but her would notice, or maybe they knew but the severity of his crimes outweighed any pity.

He wore his mask of indifference as comfortably as she did, but every now and then he would slip up, and Natasha would catch the briefest of glimpses of the real Loki – the fleeting flashes of pain or betrayal or anger in his eyes; the way he tied her hands, as if afraid she might cut herself on the broken shards of him; or the way he held her tightly enough to bruise as he screwed her into the mattress, as though he could relieve his anguish if he could just fuck her hard enough.

And Natasha took all of the broken god's rage and pain, she allowed him to lose himself in her, because if she could bring an ounce of redemption to Loki, the twisted God of Lies, Evil and Chaos, well then that would be a damned decent amount of red wiped from her ledger.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

"Hey Clint, I'm gonna take a shower, you good to debrief Fury?" Natasha called over her shoulder in the general direction of her partner.

"Yeah, sure." Clint muttered distractedly, she could hear him rummaging in the kitchen.

"Oi Nat, you got any food in this place? I'm starved!"

They had just returned from another mission and had stopped off at her apartment as it was closer to the airport than Stark Tower. After much persuading from Tony, all the Avengers now lived there except for her.

Bruce had been the first to move in, he had stayed with Stark while he was in New York and then just never went home – the two geniuses practically lived in Tony's lab anyway.

Steve was next; SHIELD had issued him an apartment when they'd recovered him from the ice. However, he'd never felt at home there and, with all the people he once knew now dead, the Avengers were the closest thing to friends or family he had, it made sense for him to move in.

Clint had resisted for a while, coveting his privacy almost as much as Natasha, but eventually the Jacuzzi and his own personal archery range won him over.

Natasha stayed there often but she kept her own apartment, claiming she needed downtime. Plus, she never knew when a certain arrogant god would show up.

"There's a takeout menu stuck to the fridge, order something." She instructed Clint as she stepped into her tiled bathroom and began to strip.

She entered the shower and closed her eyes in bliss as the steaming jets washed the tension from her muscles and the blood and dirt of today's mission from her body. Very carefully, she began to wash the gash on her arm, pouring water over it and watching as the dried blood liquefied once again and swirled down the drain.

Suddenly, the water turned freezing, and she jumped back with a gasp, stepping out of the icy stream but straight into a warm, hard body. She filled her lungs to cry out but a hand clamped down over her mouth.

Another arm encircled her waist, drawing her body back against his. The familiar woody scent mixed with the crisp smell of a coming thunderstorm enveloped her, a scent that was purely Loki.

She whirled around in his arms, forcing him to uncover her mouth.

"What do you think you're doing?" She hissed at him, "Clint is right in the other room!"

His green eyes glinted with mischief and the wolfish smile that crept along his face made her heart stutter.

"I know, all the more exciting don't you think?" He purred as he pushed her gently back against the cold tiles.

Tangling his hands in her damp hair, he drew her face to his and she lost herself in his emerald eyes. He was so close she could feel his cool breath on her cheek. He leaned in and her eyes fluttered closed as she waited for the crash of his lips on hers.

Instead, he kissed her neck. The strange surge of disappointment she felt was soon forgotten though, as he sucked on her pulse point and allowed his hands to roam over her body.

As he kissed her chest she eyed his perfectly carved body, suddenly filled with the urge to run her hands over every inch of it. She reached out, placing her hands on his chest and feeling the strong muscle go taut beneath her touch as he froze.

Slowly, her hands drifted down, her gaze dark with lust as her fingertips trailed over perfectly sculpted abs…

But her hands were pulled from his body, strong fingers encircling her wrists and pinning them above her head. Confused, she glanced at him.

"No, Natasha." He told her, and for once she couldn't read his face, the look in his eyes seemed almost…sad? But that made no sense.

"Loki," she started to ask, but it turned into a moan as Loki's fingers slipped down to her nether regions. With a dark chuckle he shushed her, nibbling at the base of her neck.

Natasha bit her lip as Loki drove her insane with his slow strokes; she was suddenly very aware of how thin her apartment walls were. Finally, when she had been just about ready to beg for it, Loki withdrew his hand and hooked it under her knee, drawing her right leg up over his shoulder.

He released her hands and one arm snaked around her waist to steady her while the other braced against the wall. She wrapped her arms around his neck for balance, taking advantage of this small allowance of contact and twirling her fingers around the silky tendrils of hair that hung at the nape of his neck.

He pushed into her, inch by inch, so slowly she wanted to grab him by the hips and ram him into her, but instead she dug her nails into his shoulders, urging him on.

Languidly, he pumped into her, the angle he had created made his strokes so deep that she clenched around him every time he pushed into her. It was slow and sensual and the most intimate they had ever been. Normally he pinned her hands so she couldn't touch, or took her from behind so she couldn't see, and yet here they were, arms wrapped around each other and connected at almost every point.

It scared her a little.

Being Loki's fuck buddy was bad enough, but being Loki's lover? It was unthinkable.

As if Loki had read her thoughts (and fuck, maybe he had), he began to speed up, grabbing her other leg he pinned her knee against the wall and releasing his own little groan as he rammed into her. He held her so tightly that she knew she'd have hand-shaped bruises in the morning, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

"Oh god, oh fuck." She whispered as he set a bruising pace.

He groaned erotically in her ear as she bit down on his shoulder to stop herself from crying out, as it was, a whimper still escaped into his skin. Natasha clung on to the Trickster for dear life as an incredible pressure began to build, her orgasm was so close she could practically feel it already.

He growled softly in her ear and she heard a crack, the wall tile beneath his hand crumbled in his grip and pieces of plaster tinkled to the floor, mixing with the water and flowing down the drain.

Wow, he really was holding back when he was with her.

There was a knock on the door, "Nat, you ok in there? Hurry up, the food will be here any sec."

Loki didn't even pause at the intrusion, merely kept fucking her into the wall and his recklessness combined with the thrill of almost being caught pushed Natasha over the edge. She was barely able to gasp out, "Be right there!" before she came so hard that Loki had to clamp his hand over her mouth once more to muffle the wail of pleasure that escaped her lips. She bit down on his hand instead and he groaned softly as she felt him spill his seed inside her.

He lowered her legs to the ground as they both struggled to catch their breath, and leant against the wall, caging his arms around her.

Her legs were like jelly and she grabbed a hold of his well-defined forearms to hold herself up. Tentatively, she let her head drop forward to rest on his chest, testing to see if he would push her away. Surprisingly he did not, and she breathed in deep the scent of sex, rust and Loki as she tried to stop her knees from wobbling all over the place.

After a moment, he drew her into the spray of the still-running shower and let the cool water cascade over their heated bodies, washing away the salt.

He took her arm and inspected it and she then realised that her cut had reopened during their, uh…_activities_ and was bleeding again. His fingertips ghosted over the gash and Natasha's eyes widened when it briefly glowed blue, the skin beneath his fingers repairing itself before her eyes.

She glanced up at him questioningly but he only grinned wryly as he backed away from her.

"You're welcome." He told her and bowed sarcastically with a grand flourish, then disappeared. Steam quickly filled the bathroom as the water turned scalding again.

Natasha traced her finger over the pink, puckered line on her arm.

She was determined to unravel the bag of cats that was the Trickster's mind. If it was at all possible that Loki was starting to develop feelings for her, any sort of sentiment at all really, then she could use that to her advantage.


	4. The Saviour

Chapter 4. The Saviour

* * *

_You trick your lovers  
That you're wicked and divine  
You may be a sinner  
But your innocence is mine_

_~ "Undisclosed Desires", Muse_

* * *

The brightly lit ballroom glittered around her as her current dance partner spun her in a tight circle before dipping her low. The live band in the corner of the room struck a lively tempo and the many chandeliers that hung from the gilded dome ceiling reflected dew drops of glittering light all across the polished wood floor.

The song ended and was replaced by another, and another partner took up her hand. Heads turned as she twirled across the dance floor, she knew she was creating a scene – that was her intent – yet she couldn't help but take slight pleasure in the fact that she could dance freely and show off her true skills for a change.

As the song drew to a close, Natasha felt a strong hand on her shoulder and turned around to find a bodyguard that looked like he had walked straight out of a Men in Black movie, complete with the sunglasses and everything.

"Excuse me miss," his voice was deep and his face expressionless, "your host, Master Thade Trevelyan, politely requests you grace him with your company."

Natasha brought her fingertips daintily to her lips and giggled flirtatiously. She could have sworn she saw the guard roll his eyes as he turned and led her up the sweeping ivory staircase. She couldn't say she blamed him, the "blonde bimbo" act even made her cringe, despite its effectiveness.

She adjusted her wig and its golden locks carefully as she was showed to a private room that was draped in red velvets. Dark curtains provided privacy from straying eyes and a thick red carpet covered the floor. A glass coffee table, covered in guns and a few packets of something she was fairly certain was cocaine, was set before a black Italian lounge suite. In the centre of the couch sat Trevelyan in his expensive black tuxedo, his arms splayed over the back of the couch and his ankle crossed over one knee. More Men in Black guards stood behind him and two scantily clad girls – who were quite obviously high – ran their hands over each other at one end of the sofa.

Natasha almost rolled her eyes at the cliché.

Bad guys these days were getting so unoriginal. Nevertheless, she played her part well, seating herself teasingly close to the young (and, she had to admit, rather handsome) villain, batting her eyelashes and placing her hand suggestively on the inside of his knee.

The mission was fairly simple. Intel had told them that Thade Trevelyan, wealthy businessman turned black market merchant, had stolen the prototype of a newly-developed limitless power source for weapons from a group of Russian scientists, and intended to sell it to the highest bidder.

Her orders were simple – get close to Trevelyan, find out everything and anything he knows, and then dispose of the target. Clint's task was a little more difficult; his orders were to recover the power chip or, if necessary, destroy it.

Clint had not accompanied her to the party, instead he would wait for her to signal that she was in position with Trevelyan and then break in and steal the chip.

Trevelyan's mansion was built on the side of a cliff that overlooked the sea and, if all went to plan, she and Clint would meet up on the east side where the mansion opened up into the side of the mountain. From there, they would rappel down the cliff into a waiting speed boat, Trevelyan would be dead, and SHIELD would be in possession of the chip.

That is, if all went to plan.

Trevelyan fed her cocktails, trying (in vain) to get her drunk, and the tipsier she acted the more talkative and handsy he became.

'_Typical male'_ she thought as he led her by the hand down the hall and to his bedchambers. She unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off his shoulders, giggling as she kissed his collar bone. She pushed him down onto the bed and then stepped back to allow her dress to slide down her body.

"All that talk of guns and things turned me on." She purred, making sure to slur her words slightly.

She straddled his lap, pressing their almost naked bodies close and leant down to whisper in his ear, "I grew up in Budapest, you know, so I do love a little danger. Tell me more?"

Clint would be on the move now, 'Budapest' had been their code word ever since, well, Budapest.

Thade kissed her, hands trailing up her back to unhook her bra and murmuring secrets he shouldn't be about the power chip.

"Incredible power really…In the right group's hands…could do so much."

She clasped his hands in hers and ran them both down the length of her body, enticing a moan from him.

"Oh, and who has the right hands?" She gushed. His grin was predatory as he flipped them over on the soft bed, he rid himself of his pants and Natasha could now fully see the bulge straining against his underwear. He nestled himself between her legs and bent over to lave kisses over her breasts and stomach.

"Well, I'll sell it to the highest bidder but," his fingers tugged at the top of her panties but Natasha wouldn't let him until he told her what she wanted to know, "in my opinion, the group who has the means to do the most damage is the-"

Suddenly, he stilled, his eyes blown wide and his mouth opening and closing like a fish but no sound came out. Natasha froze, unsure of what went wrong.

He gasped for breath and blood sputtered from his mouth and across her chest, spraying her with deep crimson. She sprung forward, looking over his shoulder. What looked like an icicle had been shoved in his back, slicing between the ribs and piercing his lung.

Natasha knew of only one person who could do that.

Angrily, she kicked the now-corpse off her and it hit the floor with a sickening thud. She leapt to her feet in a fighting stance, scanning the room but seeing nothing.

"Alright, real clever." She told the empty room.

"Show yourself!"

She felt a presence behind her but before she could turn, a strong hand grasped her around the neck, holding her in place.

"Agent Romanov," he purred in her ear, another familiar, long-fingered hand trailed across her chest, collecting droplets of blood on pale fingertips and smearing it across her chest and down between the valley of her breasts.

"I must say, red suits you better than blonde." He chuckled.

She knocked his arm away and, breaking out of his grip, she cocked her arm back, spinning to land a punch-

But he wasn't there.

She heard him laugh to her right and turned to face him. He sat in one of the plush armchairs, looking as if he owned the place.

"Why did you do that?" She hissed, she was furious, her teeth clenched tightly together in rage.

"Your job was to kill the human, was it not? You should be thanking me, agent." He replied casually.

"_After_" She grumbled, "I was supposed to kill him _after _I got the information from him."

Loki merely shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

Natasha eyed him suspiciously, "What are you even doing here?" It dawned on her suddenly, "You're here for the chip, aren't you? That's your next big move?"

To her surprise, he laughed at her.

"No, I have no interest in your pathetic mortal technology." He dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand.

"Then why-" But she was cut off by a sharp knock at the door.

"Sir, we have an intruder! The chip has been stolen!" A guard's voice informed them from the other side of the door.

Natasha darted for her clothes and her handbag which held her pistol. Loki stood from his chair and faced the door, with a flick of his wrists, he conjured into his hands two perfectly carved daggers of ice.

"No." Natasha laid a hand on his arm, stopping him before he could throw. "You don't always have to kill." She told him, slipping the dress over her head and grabbing the gun from her bag. She left her bra but wiped the blood from her chest.

She opened the door a crack, revealing the two bodyguards. They looked confused at the sight of her but she beckoned them closer with a finger and put on her sweetest voice.

"Thade told me to tell you guys something."

As they leant closer she threw the door open wide and pistol-whipped them both, knocking them out cold. They fell like trees.

She ripped off her wig and grabbed the guards by the ankles and dragged them into the room. She turned to Loki, who was staring at her like she was some kind of strange but interesting animal at a zoo, and raised an eyebrow.

"Are you coming?"

He smirked and followed her down the hallway.

They made their way silently through the mansion, but just as they turned into the east wing, they were surrounded.

An ambush.

The silence was shattered as commands were yelled and guards rushed forward to grab them both, dragging them to opposite sides.

One of the goons demanded she tell them where the chip is and, when she didn't answer, he backhanded her across the face.

Loki caught her eye as she spat out blood, and he yelled across the circle, "Now can I kill them?"

Apparently he took the roll of her eyes as a yes because he broke free of their hold and, in a heartbeat, five of the guards around him fell to the ground, daggers in their chests. Natasha couldn't help the sly smile that crossed her face briefly before she herself got to work, snapping necks and putting bullets in hearts.

They made their way to the center and fought back to back, taking down guard after guard, until they were both left standing in the middle of a pile of bodies.

Explosions sounded further down the hallway.

"Clint." Natasha murmured, rushing towards where the blasts had come from.

The corridor opened up into what used to be a living room. The large chamber was cut out of the rock of the mountain and opened into a cave from which Natasha could see the grey sea.

Bits of furniture and rock were scattered everywhere, some guards had barricaded themselves behind a bar that no longer contained any glass, while other shots rang out from the entryways and corridors. The target of their fire was Barton, who had made his nest in the rafters that held up the cave's ceiling.

Natasha slipped two disc-charges from her belt. She glanced over her shoulder but Loki was nowhere to be seen.

'_Good_' she thought, _'if Clint had seen him…_' but she didn't have time to worry about that now.

She slid the discs across the ground to the men behind the bar, ducking around the corner to shield herself behind a table that had been blown in half. She heard the explosion, followed by the screams of men. From her barricade, she shot down any survivors.

More men poured in from the hall that she had just come from, they saw her and made to grab her, but an exploding arrow from Clint scattered them.

She rolled across the field, trying to get closer to the Hawk's nest, diving behind an upturned couch. A group of men were trying to climb their way up to Clint; Barton put an arrow through two of their chests and Natasha took out the rest.

She sent another exploding disc into the group of guards shooting from the entryway, and Clint felled those who stumbled away from the blast and into his line of sight.

A terrifying rumble made them pause. One of the support beams had caught fire from an explosion and was beginning to give way.

"Clint, time to go!" She yelled and Clint made his way down to ground level.

She covered him as he secured the grappling rig to the floor at the mouth of the cave, drawing fire by darting in to a chunk of a pool table and shooting from behind the green felt and splintered wood.

"Nat, c'mon!" He yelled as he disappeared over the edge and down towards their getaway boat.

She slung one last explosive into the enemy's midst and made a break for the exit.

She was almost at the mouth of the cave when pain bloomed through her leg as a bullet tore through it and it gave way beneath her. She rolled, landing on her back just in time to gasp in horror as the structure collapsed and the ceiling of rocks crashed down towards her.

She curled in on herself, throwing her arms up to protect her head and as a terrible crash resounded in her ears, she braced for the impact.

It never came.

Surprised, she glanced up to see Loki's strained face hovering over her, his body caged protectively around hers. His brows were knitted together and his teeth clenched in effort as he literally held the roof off her. A trickle of blood seeped down from the back of his head as she stared at him in shock.

Her enemy had just _saved her life_.

"Go." He grunted when she still hadn't moved.

"But what about-"

"GO!" He yelled, his voice strained, and Natasha scrambled the few feet to the rope, clipping her belt to the line and lowering herself over the edge.

She took one last look at the evil god who had just saved her, and saw his eyes close in relief as she disappeared over the edge and sailed down the cliff.

Fury would _definitely_ want to hear about this.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

She lay in bed that night, going over the events of the day in her head. Clint had hovered annoyingly around her all day, being more than a little freaked out at her near death experience.

"God, Nat I thought," he told her as he crushed her to his chest after she landed safely on the boat, "I saw the roof collapse and I thought, you were a goner for sure."

He had been reluctant to let her out of his sight even as the medic insisted he patch up her leg. She loved Clint like a brother but she hated it when he got over-protective like this. She owed him a debt, but sometimes he would treat her as if she were his charge; she didn't want him to be responsible for her life – he had already saved her once and every time he took responsibility for her she felt like her debt only increased and she would drown in the red of her ledger.

Her thoughts then drifted to the would-be prince – why had he saved her?

She was a mortal and nothing more to him than a plaything, something to satisfy his needs and pass the time. Why would he care if she lived or died? And why was he even there in the first place?

She had figured he was after the power chip as well but he had never gone for it once. He had, however, killed the target before she could get information out of him.

Was there something Trevelyan knew that Loki didn't want her to know?

Was he somehow involved in all of this?

He had killed Trevelyan right before she employed the final stage of the Black Widow technique; could that mean, could it possibly be – Loki was jealous?

"Goddammit." She muttered as the thoughts chased themselves around her head for hours.

They were interrupted suddenly when she heard a familiar crackling noise.

'_Speak of the devil, and he will come.' _She thought wryly as Loki himself stepped through her mirror.

"Good evening, Miss Romanov." He greeted her with a nod and a smirk.

Instead of rounding on her and getting down to business as usual, he wandered over to her window, hands clasped behind his back. She stood silently and watched him as he stared out the window at the cityscape by night.

"Thought you were hurt?" She questioned.

In the reflection of the window she saw him raise a perfect eyebrow at her.

"As were you, I believe. We immortals heal quickly, you know that."

They fell silent again.

"I suppose you have questions."

Natasha stared at him, wondering (and not for the first time) if the god could read minds. She composed her expression as he turned to face her, and considered her words, deciding to go with the blunt tactic.

"What am I to you?"

When he didn't answer, she continued.

"Is it stress relief? Or boredom? Or just a way to block out the aching loneliness for a few hours?"

She kept her face carefully blank – they would both need their masks on for this discussion.

Curiosity flashed across his features. He opened his mouth to speak, thought better of it, and closed it again, his regular nonchalant expression sliding into place. She wondered what he had been going to say.

"What makes you think you mean anything to me?" He replied with instead, lips curling into the trademark smirk.

"Mortal lives are so fleeting, a blink in the existence of the cosmos."

She cocked her head to the side, arms crossed over her chest. "Just how old are you, anyway?"

Loki raised an eyebrow at her, but did not dignify that with an answer. "I am, as always, content with my own company, and my current emancipation is necessary."

She matched his smirk. "So boredom then?"

Loki gave a half-hearted shrug.

"Perhaps you sparked my interest. Perhaps I just wanted to show your mighty Avengers that I can dominate you, one of their own. That I can break you – the mortal who tricked the Trickster."

He grinned darkly, trying to intimidate her. He stepped in close, forcing her to retreat until the back of her knees hit the side of the bed. He loomed over her, lust sparkling beneath his emerald eyes.

"I do so _enjoy_ dominating you."

She smirked at him, trying to pretend that his words did not cause a shiver to run down her spine.

"You saved me today, why?"

Strong, lean fingers grasped her jaw tightly, tipping her chin up to look into his perfect face. His smirk mocked her.

"Well, I couldn't very well let my favourite play-thing get squashed now, could I?"

Natasha pulled free of his grip and flopped back onto the bed, narrowing her eyes at him.

"The boot does not care if the ant dies." She used his jibe against Fury. "But you cared. You feel something." She tried to push him further.

A frown crossed his face and he snorted indignantly.

'_Too far'_ she thought, as his walls went up once again.

"Sentiment." He spat the word. "I have sentiment for no one and nothing, not even a mortal. Especially not a mortal."

She curled up her legs towards her, wrapping her arms around her knees as she considered his reaction. He turned away from her, hands clasped behind his back and a frown marring his features. She watched his stony expression for any sign of a crack, but saw nothing.

She rested her head on her arms as she waited for him to speak again, worried that she had gone too far, but he said nothing. He was silent for so long that Natasha had almost dozed off. She was half asleep when she heard his quiet murmur.

"Haven't you heard the stories, little spider? Frost Giants have no feelings."

His expression was rueful and sarcastic, but it was his eyes that gave him away; they were full of confusion, desolation, bitter loneliness and devastating sadness.

His mask had cracked. And now she had the advantage.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks to all those who review! This is my first multi-chaptered fic, so it's always great to hear what you guys think, and it keeps me extra motivated! :D**


	5. The Scars

Chapter 5. The Scars

* * *

_I want to fuck you like an animal  
I want to feel you from the inside  
I want to fuck you like an animal  
My whole existence is flawed  
You get me closer to god_

_~ "Closer", Nine Inch Nails_

* * *

"No more interrupting missions." She had told him. "I'm not your plaything." She had said. And look where it had got her.

Her limbs tied together behind her back, the bonds so tight they were starting to cut off her circulation. She could feel the cut of rope across her shoulders and around her chest, above and below her breasts, squeezing them tightly together to the point of pain.

She had been hogtied.

"Loki." She spat, "Untie me right now!" She demanded, anger and humiliation boiling her blood.

He clucked his tongue at her disapprovingly. "I don't think you're in any position to be making demands, Miss Romanov."

She jolted as something cool and leathery brushed over her skin and trailed down her side and over her backside. "I think it's time you learnt to show the proper respect to a god, is that understood, little spider?"

Natasha struggled against her bonds but they held tight. '_This is not how this discussion was meant to go.'_ She thought.

She heard a whoosh and then a sharp slap that made her ass sting and she cried out.

The bastard had a riding crop!

She cried out again as another bolt of pain stung her ass. She grit her teeth as he rained down sharp slaps to her rear. Her ass felt hot and sensitive and she jolted every time he whipped her, the pain made her eyes water and yet she could already feel she was dripping wet.

Gasps and small cries fell from her lips. He stilled abruptly, and Natasha heard a dull clatter as he let the riding crop fall from his hand.

The ropes around her legs loosened and pulled, slithering off her like snakes, though he left her arms bound. He positioned her like a rag doll, tucking her knees up so that she was more comfortable, but exposing her ass.

She felt his cool tongue tickle the red hot welts on her backside. She bit down on a pillow to stifle her moan, but his soft chuckle told her he'd heard it anyway.

He ran his hands from her ankles up her legs, fingers dancing along the dents where the rope had cut into her skin, an appreciative hum vibrating low in his throat. He kissed and sucked and nipped at her skin, still hot and tender from his attentions with the riding crop, and she gasped and shivered.

She felt his fingers trail up her thigh to her exposed privates. She couldn't help the moan that escaped her lips as his thumb slowly circled her clit. His fingers worked faster and faster, making heat pool in her belly and all the muscles she could still feel clench up as she felt her climax approaching. Lost in the pleasure, she bucked her hips back against him, needing just a little more...

Suddenly he stopped, he drew his hand away and she mewled at the loss. She had been so close!

"Loki! Please."

She heard him chuckle darkly above her and it angered her a little to see how much he was enjoying torturing her.

"Natasha." His voice was light and playful, tinged with desire.

"Natasha, I want to try something else. You will not come until I tell you to, understand?"

Her lust-addled brain barely functioned as it was, but she was desperate to feel him inside her again and so she blindly agreed.

"Yes, yes Sir."

Her agreement was breathy and she heard him moan at the sound, which only turned her on more. His thumb returned to her clit, making her gasp.

She felt one finger enter her, and she wondered if she could actually control her orgasm at all. A second finger entered her, curling and stroking at her g-spot, and his thumb was replaced by his mouth.

She swore loudly at that. The things that man could do with his mouth!

She writhed involuntarily against her restraints as the pleasure became so intense, she didn't know how much longer she could keep her climax at bay. Obscenities and flatteries poured forth from her lips as his tongue dipped and swirled and nipped and sucked, and his fingers pounded into her relentlessly.

She tried to distract herself, tried to think of things that would disturb her, like the creepy, fat Italian shop owner that hit on her whenever she went to get pizza, or corny and predictable evil scientists, or Director Fury…

And it worked fine until Loki decided to remove his fingers and replace them with something _much_ bigger.

She moaned, rather loudly, as he entered her. He started moving slowly at first, but soon was steadily ramming into her and Natasha's mind left her completely, she couldn't string a single thought together.

Natasha couldn't hold on to her sanity much longer, the pleasure was so intense she was literally seeing stars. She finally gave in; she begged.

"Loki please, I'm gonna come, please can I come?"

She heard him groan above her at hearing her beg, but he always had been a rather cruel god.

"Not yet." He told her, and she almost screamed in frustration at the denial.

"Loki," she whined, "please…"

Then Loki did something no man had ever done before. _Ever_. He pressed a wet thumb to her _other_ hole, and rubbed small circles. Natasha jolted violently at the shockwaves that small action caused to crash through her nerves.

"Whoa wait, what are you…" Too late, he gently pushed his thumb inside her.

Natasha's scream morphed into a moan at the feeling. He rammed into her, his moans morphing with hers. The feeling was intense, so, so intense, that she felt like she would explode from pleasure, and she wasn't allowed.

"Natasha," he growled, his grip on her hip tightening as he pumped into her.

Okay. Ouch.

The pleasure drowned out the pain though, like a raindrop in the ocean, and she soon realised she was begging, pleading for her release as she screamed his name over and over.

"You may come."

He wriggled his thumb inside her and brushed his other hand over her clit and she came, exploding and screaming and rocking and shaking.

He pounded into her ever faster, chasing his own orgasm. But the pain in her hip cut her wave of pleasure a little short as his grip tightened again. She tried to grit her teeth and hold her tongue, but it felt as though he was bending her bones.

She knew his strength, and knew he was more than capable of breaking her.

"Loki, stop." She tried to shift away, tried to wriggle her hands free but the rope wouldn't budge. She felt him stiffen, a breathless moan as he pumped his release into her.

His hand clamped down on her hip as he rode out his orgasm and Natasha swore she heard something crack.

"Ah!" She couldn't help the scream as the pain made her feel a little light-headed.

"Loki, stop! You're hurting me!"

Instantly he froze, hand falling away. Relief flooded through her so fast she felt dizzy. "Natasha?" He whispered, his voice hesitant, unsure. He ran his fingers soothingly through her hair and all the ropes disappeared from her body. She collapsed bonelessly onto the bed, ghosting a palm over her tortured hip to try and somehow soothe the ache.

"Wow," she muttered, her voice breathless and her throat dry, "you really did hold back on us mere mortals, didn't you?"

She heard him chuckle and it sounded a little relieved. His cool skin pressed into her back, curling around her, and he entwined one hand with hers. She felt a warmth spread into her hand and slowly the ache in her hip faded. She glanced down. The skin there was already purpling, it would be a nasty bruise, but she felt no pain anymore.

She didn't have the energy to say thanks – she hardly had the energy to breathe. Closing her eyes, she relaxed into the soft bed; the hard planes of his cool abdomen behind her and the soft silken pillows beneath her felt like heaven.

Loki stared down at the ugly, purple blotch that marred her porcelain skin, a deep frown etched into his face.

"Apologies, little spider. This is what happens when you lie with a monster." He muttered softly into her vibrant, red hair.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the back of her neck, but she never replied, and when he tucked her hair behind her ear to see her face, she was fast asleep.

A genuine smile crept across his face as he tucked her head neatly under his chin and draped an arm over her waist.

No one ever came to visit him in his cell on Asgard, and if they did, they would see his clone, chained up and sleeping in the corner. He could stay for a little while – just as a kindness to her, of course.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Natasha was cold.

Sleepily, she felt around for the blanket, but instead her hand came into contact with cool, soft skin. Her eyes flickered open and she glanced over her shoulder to see Loki still in bed with her.

Strange, he had never stayed and slept with her before. She rolled over slowly, so as not to disturb him, and propped her head up on her hand, studying him intently.

He lay naked on his back in her bed and the bright light of the moon bathed his pale skin. The arm crooked behind his head bulged with muscle and dark lashes lay in contrast against pale cheeks. His chest was almost hypnotic with the alluring way it rose and fell with each breath, but Natasha focused instead on what had first caught her attention.

Scars.

Loki had so many scars.

She felt a pang of anger at herself, how could she not have noticed this before? She was certain his skin had always been as smooth and clear as marble, but while some of the scars looked recent, others looked very old. When had this happened?

She examined his body more closely.

Small circular scars, no bigger than her fingertip, sat beneath each rib on both sides of his chest; they were puckered and pink and looked the most recent.

Four sharp lines were etched into his hip, like claw marks, and another pale line marred his shoulder.

Natasha could see an angry pink line just visible beneath his hairline, and tiny, evenly spaced lines scarred his lips.

Faint, silvery lines scored the inside of his forearms, but the most prominent scar looked as if a fiery liquid had scorched his chest, the squiggly pale lines appearing on his collarbones and ending abruptly just above his navel.

She arched her neck to look over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of two large, pale, jagged lines that ran down his back on either side of his spine.

She stared at his face, so peaceful in his sleep, and yet his body was a warzone.

Natasha had an overwhelming urge to touch one, but just as she reached out her hand to his chest, they all disappeared before her eyes. Natasha blinked a few times in shock. Had she imagined them?

She looked to Loki's face and saw that his eyes were now open and he was staring at her. His mouth was a thin line and his green eyes were hard and cold.

Natasha realised her mouth was hanging open. She closed it with a snap, and then opened it again.

"You're covering them up." She gestured at his now perfect body, "With magic?"

Loki said nothing but sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"Well that explains why I never noticed them before." She muttered to his back.

Loki stood and instantly dressed himself with a wave of his hand. He made as if to leave but Natasha leaned across the bed and grabbed the back of his cloak.

"Wait." She breathed, "I don't understand. Why are you hiding them? It's nothing to be ashamed of. How did you get them?"

Loki turned his head to the side slightly so that she could just make out his features in the darkness.

"I think," it was almost a whisper, "that this is quite enough time spent together for a while."

She retracted her hand as if it had been zapped, the venom in his voice was like a slap to the face. He strode quietly towards the mirror and vanished, leaving Natasha sitting on the bed, alone and utterly bewildered. She wasn't even sure what to make of that, but perhaps Fury would have a better insight, she would report to him in the morning.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

'_Stupid moody god and his stupid moods.'_ Natasha fumed as she angrily stuffed clothes into her suitcase.

She and Hawkeye had been given a surveillance assignment of the city's drug cartel that had bitten off a little more than they could chew in the way of nuclear weapons. Seeing as the mission would probably last a few weeks, and that her apartment was on the outskirts of the city, Natasha had decided it would be beneficial if she moved into Stark Tower as it would put her closer to the action and her partner.

Plus, it would probably also annoy a certain demi-god who had royally pissed her off.

Loki had not been to see her in over a week after that little "scars" debacle. She thought she had been getting somewhere with him recently, but then he goes and shuts her out.

When she had reported to Fury, he warned her that continuous torture could make one unpredictable, and she couldn't agree more.

She had always been good at reading people; Steve had been convinced that she could read his mind, but Loki was something else entirely. Just when she thought she had him figured out, he would say or do something that left her stumped.

Sometimes, she could see the broken, jagged pieces of a damaged god hiding behind those green eyes, and sometimes he was so cold and aloof that Natasha wasn't so sure that there was any of Loki left to save.

Maybe he was playing her and maybe this was all just a game to him, but Natasha didn't care.

She would break him. She would tear away, piece by piece, his cold, hard exterior that was so like her own. She would rip out his soul and merge it with hers, and she would feel his pain and anguish, his rage and his sadness, and his burden would be shared.

She had to believe she could fix him, just as she had to believe that everyone deserved a second chance, otherwise why should one have been given to her but refused to him?

She had just as much blood on her hands as he had, like he had once said, her ledger was gushing, and if she could scrub some of the blood from her soul with his redemption, then she would do everything in her power to achieve it.

A line from a play jumped out of her memory and she smirked sardonically; _'Out, damned spot.'_

Loki would wash away her spots and she would wash his. But first, she would have to break the wall that his emotions were dammed behind. Only then could she start to piece the broken god back together.

A plan began to form in her mind and she steeled herself, she would complete her mission no matter what it took.

* * *

**A/N: Everyone better have got that Shakespeare reference or I will be sorely disappointed :D**


	6. The Break

Chapter 6. The Break

* * *

_I know you've suffered  
But I don't want you to hide  
It's cold and loveless  
I won't let you be denied_

_~ "Undisclosed Desires", Muse_

* * *

Natasha let her silky blue ball gown slide off her shoulders and pool around her ankles. She then proceeded to detach the numerous concealed weapons from her person and stepped into the steaming bath water.

As she let her body sink below the surface, she could hear Clint in the next room debriefing Director Fury over the Comm-link. They had discovered that the cartel boss was David Sawfford, son of the well-known and wealthy businessman, Alexander Sawfford, who apparently had no idea that his son was running a drug ring from his house. Alexander was holding a benefit for the release of his new product, and she and Clint had taken the opportunity to plant bugs throughout the house.

Natasha took a breath, closed her eyes, and let herself sink beneath the water for a moment, the searing liquid washing away the night's work and drowning out the world, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

She mulled over what she was about to do, a sudden feeling of apprehension washed over her but she pushed it away – this was her mission now. She could only hope that her plan wouldn't hurt Clint too much, she needed her best friend, he was the solid constant in her life, when everything around her was turmoil, he was her rock, and she would need him now more than ever.

Natasha stood up, suddenly determined. She strode across the cold tiles and flung open the bathroom door. Clint sat on the bed adjusting the sight on his crossbow, but when he saw her standing butt naked in the doorway his hand slipped and the arrow fired and embedded itself in the wall with a twang.

Clint averted his eyes and stuttered nervously, "Natasha, what...I...uhh"

He hurriedly retrieved his arrow from the wall and somehow found his voice again.

"Jesus Nat, put some freaking clothes on." He mumbled, still not looking at her.

She said nothing and instead sauntered over to him, his eyes finally travelled up her legs and she knew he was watching her hips swing enticingly. Natasha smiled softly as she reached him, delicately taking the arrow from his hand and letting it drop to the floor before kissing him passionately.

From there, Clint's body seemed to be on auto-pilot. He didn't say anything further but reacted instantly, wrapping her in his arms and plopping her down on the bed. Her fingers swiftly unbuttoned his shirt while his tangled in her hair.

Their mouths disconnected briefly so Clint could rid himself of his pants before fusing together again as he gently laid her back on the bed.

As Clint's fingers trailed over her body, Natasha remembered how Loki's slender pale fingers had caressed every inch of her skin, and as Clint kissed his way down and back up her chest, Natasha recalled how Loki had done the same only nights before.

Clint kissed her deeply again before pulling away, "Oh god Natasha, I..." but Natasha put a finger to his lips and cut him off.

"Don't say anything." Her eyes met his. "Please."

She leaned up and connected their mouths once more, and Clint made no more protests.

Natasha felt a little guilty, knowing that Clint's feelings ran deeper than hers, and a painful heaviness settled in her chest as he entered her.

Natasha moaned as Clint drove into her, but her mind was a thousand miles away. She wondered how angry Loki would be when he found out, and she hoped to god that this would be enough of a push in the right direction.

Natasha closed her eyes and thought of smouldering green eyes, silky black hair and cold pale fingertips.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

In a prison cell in Asgard, the Trickster god punched a wall in a fit of anger. He stared at the cracks he had made. It reminded him of a spider's web.

"What ails you, my brother?" Came a voice from the darkness.

Loki spun on his heel to see Thor's concerned face peering at him from behind the bars. Loki glared at his brother before schooling his features. He was never one to wear his heart on his sleeve.

He ignored Thor's question completely and instead asked his own; "How much time?"

He turned away from his brother and began to pace his tiny cell.

Thor paused for a moment before muttering an answer, "Five days."

Loki could hear the anxiousness in his voice. "I wish to be alone." He stated, turning his back on his brother.

"Nay brother, I..." but Loki cut him off with a sharp look.

"Loki..." Thor whined like a pup and Loki almost smiled.

"Do not fret, brother. It is most unbecoming."

There was silence for a while until Loki heard the shuffle of footsteps and knew that Thor had gone.

Loki sighed.

He should have known better than to trust a mortal. Sentimental, barbaric creatures. He had thought her different, thought her wit, cunning and intelligence indicated her superiority to the rest of her kind. Clearly, he had been wrong.

Nobody crossed the God of Mischief and Chaos without living to regret it. And he would make her regret it. He was done playing with the mortal femme fatale; it was time to finally put his plan into action.

Conjuring a pen and paper, he began to write, detailing to his accomplice what he required and the steps that needed to be taken in order to be prepared.

He spent the next few hours with his forehead pressed against the iron bars of the room's only window, trying to coax a tiny bird to his hand with crumbs from yesterday's barely-touched meal. With a little magical influence, the sparrow eventually hopped up onto his hand, pecking at the stale crumbs there. Its feathers were a sleek brown and red, a tiny green tuft between its eyes.

He reached out gently and brushed one long finger down the bird's back, feeling the delicately fragile bones beneath the feathers and knowing that one wrong twitch could crush the tiny animal beneath his finger. The bird cocked its head and chirrped happily at him.

He folded the note and fastened it to the bird's leg. With a murmur and a flick of his wrist, he sent the tiny creature off to find the Enchantress and watched as it fluttered away, tweeting happily in a freedom that it could not even comprehend.

A clatter was heard from behind him as a tray of food was pushed under the prison door. Fading footsteps echoed as the guard who brought it retreated hastily without saying a word to his Prince.

Nevertheless, Loki smiled.

He plucked an apple from his tray, tossing it with lithe fingers a few times before taking a bite. He let the juice run down his chin and smirked.

Mischief was such fun! But first, he had a more imminent matter to attend to. _She_ was home.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Natasha kicked open her apartment door and dumped the boxes by the couch. She had decided that she would take a few more of her things to her new room in Stark Tower in order to make the place seem more familiar.

Natasha didn't have a lot of things, her apartment was sparsely decorated as it was, but she had collected a few nick-nacks and things of sentimental value and usefulness over the years.

She started with her old gun drawer, throwing out the junk and boxing the stuff that was still good. She placed the numerous blades that she had hidden around the house in the box along with a few good issues of _'Guns Weekly'_ that she had kept. And of course, she packed her mirror, just in case a certain someone decided to visit.

She didn't know exactly how that worked, weather he actually needed the mirror or not, but she figured it was better to be safe than sorry. Her collection of books took up two boxes – not many people knew that she liked to read as her taste in literature was a little unusual – her compilation ranged from Shakespeare, Arthur Conan Doyle and Jane Austen to Russian classics, her favourite being Tolstoy's _Anna Karenina_.

She began wrapping her favourite tea set in newspaper and placing it in the box.

"It would seem someone has had quite the eventful week, have they not?"

His voice startled her so much that one of the delicate china cups slipped out of her hand and even with her superhuman reflexes, she only just managed to grasp it before it shattered on the floor.

Natasha met his eyes slowly, suddenly more terrified than she had ever been in her life.

His eyes were no longer the dancing, vivacious green she remembered, but instead were so hard they were almost like slate. His mouth formed a thin line so pale that it did not differ in colour from the rest of his face. She had never seen anyone so frightening.

"Loki, I..." she started, but he stepped forward and bent closer until his face was level with hers, and the anger in his eyes made the words die in her throat.

After what seemed like a lifetime, Loki faced away from her and stood with his hands behind his back. Natasha inhaled again – she hadn't even realised she had been holding her breath.

"Little spider," His words were so soft but they sent a chill down her spine.

"It has become apparent to me that I have not made myself clear enough."

He fiddled with the hem of his sleeves as he spoke, his voice so low and calm that it made Natasha feel something she had not felt in a long time – vulnerable.

"For that I must apologise." He turned to face her again and she gasped.

His eyes were blood red.

"It will be rectified immediately." He growled, his arm shot out and his fingers closed around her neck. He lifted her off the couch and brought her inches from his face.

"You are _mine_," he hissed, a sound so deadly it made her hairs stand on end, "you will never want another man, you will never want anyone but me. I own you, until your mortal heart gives out, diseased and bleeding. And when it does, I will be there to watch you die, because you are mine, forever."

His grip around her throat tightened and made spots appear in her vision, but the words he spoke made her heart beat faster and almost made her smile – so he did have feelings for her after all.

Loki moved so quickly that Natasha didn't realise that her clothes had disappeared and that he had sat on the couch and slung her over his lap, ass in the air, until she felt the first stinging slap across her backside.

She screamed in surprise and pain and tried to fend him off with her hands, but her caught her wrists and held them together behind her back. She felt a coarse material slide over her wrists and she tried to crane her neck over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of Loki deftly tying her wrists with a thick rope.

His hand came down upon her backside again and Natasha thought that he must be using his magic because the impacts felt more like a whip then a slap. The sharp, repetitive sound of flesh on flesh rang harshly throughout the apartment, thickening the atmosphere with fear.

She noted gratefully though, that despite his anger, he kept his strength in check, and she knew that some form of sentiment for her had crept into his heart.

She squeezed her eyes shut, the pain making her eyes water, and let out screams and groans through gritted teeth, until the point where her ass felt numb, yet at the same time it was on fire. Then finally, finally, he stopped.

She turned her head and tried to see through watery eyes what pain Loki would be inflicting next, and she couldn't help the whimper that escaped her lips when Loki bent his head and blew across her burning cheeks, his cool breath sending a shiver down her spine.

He glanced over at her and she noticed that his eyes had darkened, now more of a browny-red colour. He sneered at her and she was suddenly reminded of a vampire from those old movies, baring his fangs before sinking his teeth into his prey. Except Loki would be taking a bite out of her ass, not her neck.

Instead, Loki rolled her off his lap and unceremoniously dumped her on the floor. The pain that shot through her behind was almost immediately soothed by the coldness of the floor.

She scrambled awkwardly to her feet without the use of her hands. Loki stood and faced her, staring at her like he was trying to see through her. The mask he wore now was of calm and careful control, but Natasha could see the fire burning in his eyes.

"Kneel." He commanded her with a power and strength in his voice that was irrefutable.

A surge of defiance ran through her, but she quickly quashed it, it would do her no good to disobey him now. She hesitated, but eventually dropped to her knees. She noticed the corners of Loki's mouth twitch upwards into a satisfied smirk.

Loki leaned forward and grabbed her jaw roughly, squeezing her cheeks and pulling her face closer.

"Do you think that's enough punishment?" He asked, she tried to nod but his iron grip on her jaw made it impossible.

"No?" He mocked her, "Good. Neither do I."

Natasha's eyes widened as Loki's clothes dissolved with a wave of his hand and as his fingers wound themselves tightly into her hair, she realised what was about to happen.

He squeezed her jaw harder and she obediently opened her mouth and took him in. She flattened her tongue, pushing as far as was comfortable, but she knew she would never fit him all in.

She stopped, and she heard Loki snort before he shoved her head down until her nose was touching his stomach.

He held her there for a second while she choked before ripping her mouth off him, watching her as she coughed and spluttered.

Using her hair like reins, Loki set a steady pace and Natasha tried to relax her throat to accommodate him. The deep thrusts caused her eyes to water even more as she choked on him, until the salty liquid finally spilled over her bottom lashes and smeared her cheeks.

Suddenly, he pulled on her hair harshly and she released him with a loud pop, coughing and gasping for air. Without saying a word he shoved her and, without her hands, she toppled backward to the floor. He grabbed her behind the knees and with a swift tug, pulled her so she was upside down with her back against the couch, legs flipped her over her head.

He bent over her, the feeling of his breath between her legs exhilarated her and caused excitement to pool in her belly. Natasha couldn't help but moan when he licked a long line from her clit to her ass, but it turned into a cry of pain as he struck her once more.

She heard him shift above her, and then his cool length impaled her.

She had never felt more vulnerable and out of control in her life, and it stimulated her. No man had ever made her feel this way, she had always been in control of every situation. Whether she was having sex for pleasure or, more likely, was using it to seduce a man for the sake of her mission, Natasha had always called the shots, she was always the one on top.

But this, the things Loki was doing to her, made her feel wild and unrestrained, yet captive and compliant at the same time. She felt freer than she ever had, yet she was a prisoner to his touch. He took her breath away, then gave it back. He ruled her, and she loved it.

Loki fucked her relentlessly. He bit, licked and sucked her body, leaving marks and bruises down her neck, chest, stomach and thighs. He manoeuvred her like a rag doll into the positions he wanted.

When she came on the floor, Loki lifted her in his arms and laid her down on the dining table. When she came on that, he fucked her up against the wall before continuing through the apartment to take her on the kitchen bench.

He made her come four, five, six times and Natasha dazedly hoped her neighbours weren't home because he made her scream with each thrust, pinch and bite.

"Scream my name, and no one else's." He growled into her ear, and she did.

Finally, when Natasha thought she was about to pass out from the intense mix of pain, pleasure and exhaustion, Loki bit down on the soft muscle where her neck met her shoulder, and drew blood as he came inside her with a groan. Neither moved for a few minutes, both breathing heavily.

Loki drew his head back from the crook of her next and Natasha would have laughed if she wasn't so exhausted. His lips were smeared red with her blood. Now he really did look like the vampires from the movies.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and licked his lips. He slid his hands over her shoulders and down her arms, untying the rope with quick and practiced fingers.

Natasha sighed as she was released from her bonds, shaking out her aching arms and rubbing at her chafed wrists. Looking down, she examined her body. Her wrists were red and raw and she could see the bruise purpling under the skin. Large, mottled, hand-shaped bruises had already formed on her hips from where he had held her, and tiny oval love bites littered her body, especially across her chest.

Loki drew back on to his knees and smoothed back his hair with a hand, his clothes magically reappeared and she knew he was going to leave again – he just needed one last push.

"You're jealous." She called out, sitting up, and he paused.

"Feelings aren't always a weakness. The Avengers taught me that." His eyes were bright green again as he stared at her so intensely that she tried to cover herself with her hands, suddenly embarrassed.

They were silent as the minutes ticked by. Natasha hugged her knees as she tried to decide what would give him that final tug over the edge and into the whirlpool of feelings that raged behind his eyes.

Cold fingers of dread gripped her insides as she realised what she would have to do – what she would have to tell him. For it was only fair that if she wanted him to open up, if she wanted to piece the shattered soul of the broken god back together, then first she would have to fix her own, and to do that she would have to rip away her own protective mask and make the first move.

"You were jealous and you're afraid, because I…because I want to know you."

Her voice trailed off at the end but he did not move, his features cold and perfectly expressionless. Natasha took a deep breath and began.

"You already know most things about me. Drakov's daughter." She let her hands fall into her lap and stared at them.

"Sao Paulo, forty seven people. The hospital fire, ninety three lives." She listed. "I guess Clint told you most of that." She noticed he flinched when she said his name.

There was silence for a long moment as Natasha gathered courage.

"Did you know that I killed my husband?" She looked up at him, his face was unreadable.

"His name was Alexi, he was a decorated war pilot." She gave a small chuckle, though there was no humour in it.

"A hero to the Soviet people. Everybody loved him. I most of all. And he loved me too, I know he did. We were so happy together. The perfect couple in the eyes of the public. I was a famous ballerina, did you know that too?" She glanced up at Loki and the curiosity on his face told her that he hadn't heard this part of her story. She smiled faintly at the memory. "Then the KGB decided that he was too good to share. They told me he died in a plane crash."

Natasha shivered and stood up to hide the crack in her voice. She walked unsteadily back to her lounge room to find her clothes but they were not there, Loki must have magicked them away. Suddenly she felt a weight on her shoulders, and turned to find Loki draping his coat over her before stepping back, expressionless as ever.

His coat was warm and smelt just like him. She breathed in deep before continuing.

"I've never felt such grief as I did in those years, and I doubt I ever will." She sat gingerly on the sofa, her ass still aching. After a moment Loki sat down next to her.

"They trained him as the Red Guardian, then sent him to kill me. I tried to talk to him, tried to get him to shake off the brainwashing, but nothing worked. And during our fight a fire had started. The building was starting to collapse and I knew that if we didn't get out now then we would both die. He had me pinned but, I pleaded, tried to reason with him, but he wouldn't let go. So I shot him."

Natasha's eyes were watering again but this time it wasn't from her stinging ass. She let out a heavy breath.

"I just managed to escape before the building collapsed and burned to the ground, but I'll never forget the look in his eyes as I ran."

The next sentence was barely a whisper.

"They screamed murder, betrayal."

Natasha looked disgusted at herself as she fell silent.

Loki still didn't say anything as the minutes passed and the quiet ate away at her until finally, she looked at him expectantly, and was dazzled by his green eyes.

He reached out his hand and she closed her eyes as cool fingertips brushed over her cheek and trailed her bruised, red lips. She leaned in to his touch but it vanished, she opened her eyes and realised he was gone.

Natasha frowned and stared at the teapot that sat forlornly on the table. She could see that the dam that held back his emotions was breaking, but in the process she had just shattered her own emotional wall that had been intact for decades.

For the first time since she was a child, Natasha Romanov allowed the few threatening tears to fall silently and stain her cheeks. She wept for herself and she wept for the man who would never shed a tear for his own pain, and she prayed to a god she didn't believe in that they would both come out of this in one piece, and be able to wash the red from their ledgers together.


	7. The Goodbye

Chapter 7. The Goodbye

* * *

_You've been the only thing that's right  
In all I've done  
__~ "Run", Snow Patrol_

* * *

"Hey Nat, did you lose a fight with your vacuum cleaner or what?"

Tony Stark laughed heartily as he poked her in the side of the neck. Natasha sat down her coffee cup sharply and brushed her hair forwards over her neck while turning and giving Tony the Evil Eye.

"Rhetorical question, love." He placated as he backed away, holding his hands up to show surrender.

"I mean, I know I'm the Albert Einstein of the twenty-first century and whatnot, but I really don't need to be a genius to figure out what you got up to last night."

He winked at her, then quickly ducked behind Captain Rodgers who had just walked in to the lounge room to avoid the pen that she had flung at his head.

"Nuttier than a fruitcake, that one." He muttered to Steve, then hurriedly danced out of the room with a giggle to avoid her wrath.

Natasha huffed in anger and turned her attention back to the blueprints of the cartel's warehouse that she was studying, she heard Captain America chuckle behind her. She gave him a sharp look over her shoulder.

"Not you too." She rolled her eyes and faced the maps again.

"No, no." Steve denied as he joined her in poring over the papers.

"What you get up to in your spare time is strictly between you and Barton, and frankly I think Stark's behaviour is–"

Natasha cut him off with a surprised look. "What?"

Steve backtracked. "No, I didn't mean to offend. I actually think it's nice what you two have, it's good to see two people..."

But Natasha had already tuned him out. People thought she'd _had sex with Clint_.

'_Oh shit_' Natasha thought to herself.

Well, that at least explained that odd situation earlier where Clint had walked into the common room, took one look at her, and walked straight back out. He had been avoiding her like the plague all day. Which was hard to do when you lived and worked together.

Natasha hurried out of the room, calling a distracted "Sorry, gotta run." over her shoulder to a very confused Steve.

She strode down the halls purposefully, taking the stairs to the upper levels of Stark Tower, the heels of her black boots clicking as she searched. As she passed the door to the firing range, Natasha heard the twang of a bow and knew it would be Clint.

She should have known he would be here. They both felt the urge to train when they needed to blow off steam. Though normally, his stress wasn't caused by her.

Natasha pushed open the door cautiously to see Clint fire another arrow into a bullseye. He didn't acknowledge her presence even as she walked up to stand beside him, he simply plucked another arrow from his quiver and drew it.

"Clint..." she started softly, but the sharp sound of him releasing the arrow made her flinch.

She paused, waiting for him to say something. He lowered his bow, staring at the curved weapon in his hands for a few moments before finally turning to her.

The look in his eyes made a strange feeling crash over her. She realised it was guilt.

"So, who is he?"

His blue eyes bore into hers for a moment, before turning back to the target and stringing another arrow.

She shook her head, "It's not like that Clint, Fury gave me a mission."

Clint snorted as he released the arrow with a twang.

Bullseye, of course.

"And has Fury seen you? Seen what your little mission did to you?"

He gestured at the deep bruise on her neck. She crossed her arms, beginning to get a little annoyed at the way he was babying her.

"Clint, we've had far worse injuries with this, and you know this is not the first time I've done this type of mission, nor will it be the last. It's why they send me, it's what I'm good at. We may not always like it but orders are orders, and everything we do is for the greater good, you know that."

She spun on her heel and left him looking appropriately chastised. He was a little jealous but he'd come round, he always did.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Natasha headed back to her room for a shower after her training session in the Stark gym. Clint had been going over the communications from the bugs they had planted in Sawfford's house a few weeks ago, but she had found it a little awkward standing there listening with him, so had decided instead to see if she could punch the guilt out of her system.

Natasha wearily pushed open her bedroom door, only to be greeted by a handsome god, legs crossed, looking quite at home on her couch.

She ignored him and walked past him to grab the bottle of water that sat on her coffee table. She suddenly felt his presence behind her, his breath tickled the tiny hairs on the back of her neck and she closed her eyes as she felt his cool fingers ghost over the bruise on her neck that he had given her.

She tilted her head to the side to give him easier access as his fingers trailed lower, to the healing bite mark on her shoulder.

His hands fluttered down her sides and came to rest on her hips. He dragged the hem of her shirt up slightly and she knew he could see the deep purple bruises where he'd held her too tight.

She turned to face him, and frowned in confusion when she thought she saw sorrow and guilt his large, green eyes.

Loki reached up and smoothed the puzzled frown that marred her forehead with his thumb. He brushed a strand of fiery hair behind her ear with graceful fingers. His silence was making Natasha nervous. After a few more moments, the quiet became far too loud.

"Is something wrong?" Though she lowered her voice, the question still sounded harsh to Natasha's ears.

A slight smile graced Loki's lips, though it was melancholy and forlorn.

"I'm afraid I will not be able to see you for a little while."

His hand dropped from her face and he turned away from her. Natasha scowled at herself for missing his touch.

"Why? Are you going somewhere?" She asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

Natasha noticed a slight frown creasing his perfect features.

"I cannot say." He replied mysteriously, and strode away from her and towards the window, hands clasped behind his back as if deep in thought.

She followed him to the floor-to-ceiling view of the city and he turned to face her, the frown now gone and his face far softer.

A month ago, Natasha would never have thought that the God of Mischief and Lies was capable of anything other than creating chaos. He had killed so many people and destroyed half of New York, not to mention tried to kill her and her teammates. And yet, the way he was looking at her now...

Natasha had recognised that Loki was attractive, even when she was fighting him. But she hadn't realised how _beautiful_ he was.

His cheekbones were as sharp as if Michelangelo had just carved them himself, his skin pale and translucent, soft as a newborn. He towered above her and above everyone else in the Avenger team for that matter, with the possible exception of Thor. His body was lean and perfectly muscled, filled with a power that she had experienced firsthand. She loved the feel of his silky, smooth black hair on her skin, and _oh_, those _eyes!_

Natasha could see all too clearly how he could have been considered a god.

Natasha wondered if all gods were this beautiful, and a sudden stab of jealousy surprised her as she pictured how attractive the women of Asgard must be.

Loki took a step closer, interrupting her rambling thoughts.

"I merely came to give you something."

And before she could blink, Loki's lips crashed against hers, shattering any chance she had of stringing her thoughts together in her mind.

It was not at all fierce and passionate, the way she had imagined their first kiss would be, but instead it was gentle and soft, cool and reassuring.

Their mouths melded and his lips encased hers, his hand sliding from her cheek to cradle the back of her head. She melted into him, her body pressing up against his.

Engulfed by the heady passion of his kiss, she slid her hands over his shoulders, wrapping her arms around his neck and tangling her fingers in his silky hair, surprised that he was allowing her to touch him so intimately.

She couldn't tell if it was the cold of his body or the heat of his kiss that caused shivers to run down her spine and fire to pool in her chest. A tingling sensation spread to every part of her body as his cool tongue swooped over hers. Natasha's toes curled involuntarily in her boots, she never wanted this feeling to end. But all too soon he pulled away.

"I have to go." He whispered.

She opened her mouth to protest but before she could say a word, he was gone.

Natasha suddenly felt weak at the knees and had to plop down on the couch to keep from falling over.

She touched her fingers to her lips. They still tingled with the sweetness of his kiss.

Things were changing rapidly and she wasn't even sure what to tell Fury anymore.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry this chapter's so short! And sorry I'm being so slow to update, I've been ridiculously busy the past two weeks :/ after this weekend though should be back to normal :) I'm turning 21! :D**


	8. The Punishment

**A/N: I advise everyone to listen to this song, I think it is absolutely perfect for this chapter :)**

**Also, happy birthday to meeeee, happy birthday to meeeee ;)**

* * *

Chapter 8. The Punishment

* * *

_This one had it coming, this one found a vein_  
_ This one was an accident, but never gave me pain_  
_ This one was my father's, and this one you can't see_  
_ This one had me scared to death_  
_ But I guess I should be glad I'm not dead_

_~"Made of Scars", Stone Sour_

* * *

The next few weeks were horrible. Natasha found that she missed Loki, which only made her angry at herself.

He was her target, her mark, yet she often caught herself thinking about him, wondering where he was and what kind of mission was so important that he couldn't see her. And every time, she berated herself for acting like some love-struck schoolgirl with a crush.

'_Love is for children'_ she kept reminding herself, but somewhere deep inside, Natasha knew that she was starting to believe less and less in her mantra.

Not only that, but Clint was still being rather awkward around her, and she often had the urge to smack him upside the head and tell him to get over it, but she doubted that would help the situation.

To top it all off, Natasha had managed to catch a stomach bug from some ungodly place (her bet was on her last mission to India), and the swirling, gnawing pit in her stomach made her want to hurl everything back up as soon as she had put food in her mouth.

Those two weeks without Loki were horrible for Natasha, but not nearly as horrible as it was for her lover, thousands of light-years away...

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

_Two Weeks Earlier_

Loki heard footsteps echoing down the corridor to his cell.

Today was the day.

His brother's stern face appeared behind the bars of his cell door. Thor looked unhappy, to say the least. His brows were knitted together and he almost looked like he was pouting.

It wouldn't have surprised Loki, his brother always was the childish one. And yet for some reason, everyone adored him anyway. Go figure.

Thor unlocked the door and it swung open with a loud clang. He stood before his adopted brother and used the same key to unlock the shackles binding his wrists. He let them fall to the floor.

Loki could see in his brother's face that he was dying to speak, to say something. He opened his mouth but Loki placed a hand on his brother's shoulder and shook his head, silencing him.

He didn't want to hear it. Everything Thor had to say was already written all over his face.

His sky blue eyes shone with pity, sadness, grief, regret and a hint of anger and disappointment.

Loki didn't want to hear any of it.

Instead, he walked past his brother and down the corridor, away from his dull, grey prison.

Thor quickly caught up to him and grasped his shoulder in his large hand. Loki let himself be steered. He would never admit it, but the familiar warm touch was as comforting to him as it was to Thor.

The siblings were flanked by royal guards as they entered the great, open Throne room. Thor was hustled to the side as the two guards grasped Loki by the arms and marched him towards his "father".

The entire hall was filled with people. It looked like the whole of Asgard had turned up to see Loki humiliated.

He sneered at them, and gave a satisfied smirk when the closest ones stepped back in fear.

Loki and the guards stopped in front of the few stairs which led to the altar where Odin's throne sat. The All Father was not the only one on the altar though. A long, ornate table had been placed in front of them, and at it sat eight elderly Asgardians, four on each side of his father's throne.

The High Council.

His mother, Frigga, stood at Odin's side, her hand curled around his high-backed chair. Her face looked stern but it was her eyes that gave her away. They were filled with sorrow and pain, she looked on the verge of tears.

Thor had made his own way up through the crowd and now joined his mother, standing on the opposite side of his father. His hand also came to rest upon the throne.

Loki smiled at the irony of it all.

There they were, looking like the perfect family portrait, all grasping what he could never touch – the throne. And here he was, bowed at their feet, in his rightful place.

A fitting position for a monster such as he.

Anger swelled up in his chest and Loki had to fight to control his expression. He was thankfully distracted from his rage when the Councilman to Odin's right stood and unraveled the scroll in his hands. He cleared his throat and the hall suddenly became deathly quiet.

"LOKI LAUFEYSON," his voice reverberated around the walls like a death sentence.

'_So, he has told the world of my true heritage then.'_ Loki thought bitterly, and it struck him like a blade of ice to the heart.

"SECOND SON OF ODIN, THE GREAT ALL FATHER, YOU ARE HEREBY SENTENCED TO ASGARDIAN JUSTICE FOR THE ATROCIOUS CRIMES COMMITTED ON THE MORTAL PLANET OF MIDGARD. YOUR CRIMES INCLUDE, BUT ARE NOT LIMITED TO: THE MURDER OF EIGHTY NINE MORTALS, THE DESTRUCTION OF AN ENTIRE CITY,"

"It was only the downtown area." Loki muttered to no one in particular.

"AND VIOLATION OF ASGARDIAN LAW 5739, SUB SECTION 23B - THE PROTECTION OF MIDGARD."

The old, bearded man paused for a moment and glanced to Odin. The All Father gave a curt nod, signalling the man to continue.

"THE HIGH COUNCIL OF ASGARD HAS DECIDED YOUR PUNISHMENT, LOKI LAUFEYSON. THOU ART TO BE SENTENCED IMMEDIATELY TO ONE HUNDRED LASHES WITH THE WHIP OF ETERNAL JUSTICE."

As soon as the Councilman let the scroll snap shut, a hushed murmur broke out in the hall. It grew louder as Odin ordered the guards to take him to the courtyard and chain him to Yggdrasil, the Sacred World Tree.

Loki exhaled slowly through his nose and allowed himself to be carted away. His punishment was necessary if he was to instigate his plan.

'_Damn,'_ he thought, as the guards dragged him backward and the crowd parted to allow his passage. _'This is definitely going to leave a mark.'_

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Thor struggled to watch as his beloved brother was chained to the Tree and stripped bare to the waist.

Thor recalled he and Loki as children, running circles around that tree, and the rest of the courtyard, taking turns to chase each other.

He also remembered sitting with his brother under the shade of that tree as their tutor taught them all about Yggdrasil, the tree which connected all worlds and through which all power and life energy flowed.

The memories caused such a devastating sadness to sweep through Thor that it made his knees weak and he feared he may actually collapse.

As the first crack of the whip sliced through the air and silenced the murmuring crowd, his mother turned to him and buried her face in his shoulder, not able to watch any more pain be inflicted on her son.

On the seventh crack of the whip, Thor also turned his head away, the sight before him causing too much pain for him to bear any more.

A single drop of wetness dripped off the Crown Prince's nose and disappeared into his mother's hair.

The entire time, Loki made not a sound.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

It was two weeks before Loki was strong enough to summon the magic to open the portal to Midgard.

Like all immortals, Loki was not easily injured, and when he was, he healed quickly. But the Whip of Eternal Justice was imbued with ancient magic, it was created to punish Asgardians who committed terrible wrongs.

Loki had heard stories in his youth that the pain of the punishment had drove gods mad. And indeed it was painful, but Loki had endured worse for far less, both at the hands of his own father and of others who thought him weak. But the Whip was old magic, and though Loki was familiar with pain, the Councilmen had to force feed him the Apple of Immortality at 50 lashes just to keep him from dying.

Thor had visited him every day since, bringing him more Apples in attempts to speed his recovery.

Loki accepted the first one but had refused the rest ever since. He did not want his brother's help with this, he wanted to embrace the pain – it was what he deserved.

Frigga also came to see him every day to change his bandages, as she was the only one that Loki would even let near him.

He still loved his mother in spite of everything. She was the only one that had ever treated him and Thor as equals. For that, she was the only one he respected in this realm full of hollow gods.

Today, however, the broken God of Mischief did not wish to speak to either his mother or his brother. So, in the early hours of the morning, Loki summoned a doppelganger to take his place and opened the portal between two realms.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

It was night on Earth, and Natasha was pulling off her boots and crawling into bed when she heard a familiar crackling from her mirror and a moment later Loki stumbled through the reflective glass.

Her face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. Natasha scolded herself silently and tried to look nonchalant.

"Oh, you're back. I..." but her voice trailed off when she noticed that there was something wrong with Loki.

His skin was normally pale, but now he looked plain sickly, he looked bonier than normal too, as if he hadn't eaten in the past weeks, and he held himself stiffly in a strange manner.

The smile slowly slid off her face and her expression became one of dread.

"What's wrong?" she inquired immediately.

Loki tried to smile at her, but it came out as more of a grimace.

"Nothing, little spider. Do not concern yourself."

But Natasha was having none of that.

She got up from her bed and strode over to him, but he took a step back into the shadows of her bedroom. She cocked her head to the side curiously, then took another step forward and reached out her hand to stroke his cheek. He flinched at the movement and retreated further into the shadows.

His actions reminded her of a wild, frightened animal.

"Loki..." she said slowly, confused and concerned. "What happened?" She emphasised each word.

Loki inhaled deeply and attempted to draw himself up to his full height. He strode over to her glass-wall window casually and stared out at the full moon that brightened the night sky and bathed the New York skyline.

He spoke without facing her. "My trial took place earlier this week for the crimes I committed here in your realm. I faced Asgardian justice and was punished accordingly." He spoke as calmly as if he was talking about the weather.

Loki glanced back at Natasha. A frown creased her brow and her plump lips were pressed tightly together in concern.

"What kind of punishment?" She demanded.

He smiled at her, the kind of smile an adult gives an orphaned child when they ask where their parents are. It was foreboding.

He didn't answer her, but went back to staring out the window.

Slowly, she inched closer to him, stretching out her hand to place on his shoulder reassuringly. As soon as she made contact he hissed audibly, and suddenly she was knocked on her ass on the floor.

Natasha propped herself up on her elbows, too bewildered to even stand.

"What the fuck was that?" She demanded.

Then she noticed he was hunched over, his beautiful face contorted with pain. Quickly she stood and went to his side.

"Your back?" Her hand ghosted over his hunched form, never touching.

"They hurt you." It was more of a statement than a question.

"Loki, show me." She reached for the clips on his vest but froze when he let out an animalistic growl, his green eyes shone wildly in the darkness.

"Loki, please..." she begged.

He paused for a moment, his breathing laboured. He pushed past her to seat himself on her bed.

As she stood before him she thought he looked so very fragile, his head bowed and his hands lay defeated in his lap. Not at all the man who had broke her down with well-crafted words almost six months ago.

She sat next to him carefully and her hands again reached for his vest. He winced and sucked in a breath through clenched teeth, but allowed her to undress him.

When Natasha removed the last layer of clothing, she literally gasped in horror.

"_Bozhe moĭ_" she breathed as the blood-caked bandages fell away.

Thin, crimson lines gouged Loki's back, criss-crossing almost every inch of it. The skin around the wounds was pink and puckered. It looked as though his back was riddled with long craters, a confluence of deep ravines where the rivers that flowed were of his own blood.

Loki remained frozen in place, as if afraid that a single movement would cause the punishment and pain to continue.

Natasha had seen, and even treated, many horrific wounds before, but for some reason, the sight before her made the contents of her stomach heave and churn and she suddenly felt very ill.

Natasha rushed to the bathroom, took a few deep breaths to steady herself and settle her stomach, then grabbed the first aid kit from the medicine cabinet and hurried back.

Loki eyed the large red cross on the kit in her hand and told her; "Your mortal ointments won't work on this wound. The Whip has magic that prevents me from healing."

She opened the box anyway and began rummaging through its contents.

"So, a whip huh?" she said quietly as she gently applied an antiseptic cream to his back. She injected a shot of morphine into an undamaged part of his shoulder and used butterfly clips to pin the edges of his wounds together.

Loki gritted his teeth against the pain. "The Whip of Eternal Justice." He ground out, "Its magic forces me to heal at a much slower rate than usual."

She began wrapping a clean bandage around his torso. As she finished, she let her fingers trail over his shoulder and down his arm, gently mapping each bulging, wiry muscle.

He had rarely ever allowed her to touch him before, and never like this. He usually tied or pinned her hands somehow during their lovemaking, or pulled away when she reached out to him, and it pained her to imagine what had caused his haphephobia.

His old scars were also visible, which meant either he did not have the magic or the energy to cover them up.

She traced over the lines on the palm of his hand, until his fingers curled around her own.

She looked up and fell into those deep seas of green.

She gave in to her urge to kiss him.

Outside, the heavens opened up and sheets of rain poured down. The two lovers were too focused on each other to hear the steady pounding of water droplets against the window pane.

For the first time, he was the vulnerable, fragile one, and she was in control, she was on top. Every one of her actions was controlled and calculated, so as not to hurt him. Every brush of fingertips, every roll of her hips, and every caress of her lips against his was filled with a gentle loving that Natasha had never before experienced with anyone, not even Clint.

As the rain halted for a brief intermission, Loki found himself talking.

Her touch trailed over the contours of his abs and brushed over the more recent scars that punctured the dip between each rib.

"That is the bite of a frightening monster that is found on the moon Titan. It is a worm like creature with a mouth the length of its body, and rows of teeth that could pierce the good Captain's shield."

Natasha tried to picture the beast he described, frowning, she glanced up to see that Loki's expression was stormy and far away.

She reached up and traced over the scars that marred his lips. He gazed down at her and smiled beneath her touch, drawn from his haunting memories.

"That is the reason why you should never bargain with dwarfs." He chuckled and she smiled with him. "They had my mouth sewn shut for my trickery, but it was worth it, for that is how Thor's hammer came to be."

He frowned, looking thoughtful for a moment, before asking, "You can no longer see the ones on my back, can you?"

She hesitated for a moment before shaking her head, not wanting to frighten him off by breaking her silence.

"It is an ancient form of Asgardian punishment, painful but not deadly." He continued. "However, I believe this method made its way to your realm in ancient times and was used for execution. I believe your people named it the Blood Eagle."

She had heard of it, an old Viking torture where they severed the ribs from the spine and spread them out from the incision made in the victim's back, creating the allusion of bloodied wings. She tried to calm the sick feeling in her stomach that arose as an image of Loki undergoing that torture flashed through her mind.

"My _father_," – he spat the word, "punished me for trading the goddess Idunn to a giant. Thor had lost his hammer on Jotunheim and I convinced the giant to return it in exchange for Idunn's hand in marriage. Of course, I got her back, I never planned to leave her there." Loki grimaced slightly at the memory.

Her fingers trailed down his side, feeling the four long, jagged scars on his hip. She looked back up at him, questioning.

He answered without her asking. "A bilgesnipe; huge scaly creatures with sharp antlers and claws poisoned with a venom that burns and festers the skin. Father thought I should be more like Thor." The words were bitter on his tongue.

"When we not yet 900 years old, Odin sent us both into the Enchanted Forest for 'survival training', as he put it. Thor was trying to woo a young maiden we had met whilst crossing the Mountains of Asgard and sent me off to collect firewood. I was attacked, that's how I got this one as well." He pointed to the jagged line on his shoulder.

He remembered the fear, the first time he realised that he was alone, that no one would save him, that he had to rely only on himself. And he remembered the grim satisfaction he felt at the expression of shock and horror and awe on Thor's face when he dumped the beast's bloodied corpse at his feet.

Natasha reached up to run her fingers through his silky black hair, reveling in the feel of it before her touch grazed over the jagged scar across his hairline. Loki's eyebrows furrowed, trying to find the words.

"My own doing, that one, before I had learned how to properly wield a blade."

Confused, she raised one eyebrow, questioning. He seemed to know exactly what she was asking, "It was not a punishment. Black hair is most unusual amongst the Aesir you see."

A dull pain settled in her chest at his melancholy smile, and intensified as her attentions fell to the myriad of thin pale scars that ran from wrist to elbow up the soft inside flesh of his forearm.

She didn't have to ask what caused them, she already knew.

The blonde hair and blue eyes of her first childhood friend surged to the front of her mind. The tips of her golden curls dyed red as she stared at the ceiling, unseeing. The bloodied razor lay inches from her fingertips. After all, the only escape from the Red Room at that point was death.

She rested her head against his chest and Loki wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer and allowing her to snuggle into him.

She hesitated before turning her attention to the last scar. She ran her palm over it, and Loki frowned down at her.

"That" he chose his words carefully "was another punishment from my father." Loki paused for a moment and Natasha waited patiently for him to continue.

"I was tied down and a poisonous snake was fastened above me. Its venom dripped steadily and burned skin and bone alike, like acid. I would regenerate only for the poison to eat through to my heart again. An exhausting state of being."

Loki appeared so lost in thought that Natasha didn't dare ask what he was being punished for. He looked far too saddened for her to continue prodding at the memory.

Instead she pressed a kiss to his jugular and, snuggling deeper under the covers, tucked her head under his chin. Under the hand that lay upon his chest she could feel the steady beating of his heart, its rhythmic palpitations slowly lulling her into a dreamless sleep.

When Loki was sure she was in the deepest sleep, he detangled himself from Natasha's limbs and carefully redressed.

He gazed at the peaceful figure beneath the covers for a moment, her skin milky white in the moonlight. A frown marred his sculpted features as a strange feeling crept into his chest, like a band tightening around his heart as he looked upon her.

What was this feeling?

A sense of déjà vu tugged at his memory but he refused bring it into focus.

Yes, he had felt this feeling before, but that was a long time ago, and since then, he has rid himself of all cumbersome feelings – of sentiment.

A memory stirred.

'_Is this love?'_

'_Love is for children.'_

Whether or not love was for children, adults, or all humans alike, Loki had no idea. He did, however, know one thing for certain.

Love was _not _for monsters.

He gently pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. "Sleep well." He whispered, before stepping back into the shadows and disappearing into the night.

* * *

**A/N: Quick note on ageing: In Thor 2, Loki stated that the Asgardian life expectancy is around 5000 years. In the beginning of the first Thor, Odin found baby Loki during the war against the Frost Giants, stated to have happened 965 AD. Using my amazing math skills and comparing this with the average human life expectancy, I've deduced that a 900 year old Asgardian is physically equivalent to a 15 year old human, and that Loki's age to date is approximately 1050. Mentally, however, is a whole other ball game…**

**_Bozhe moĭ_ is the Russian equivalent of 'oh my god'**

**haphephobia = fear of being touched  
**


	9. The Impossible

Chapter 9. The Impossible

* * *

_As much as I'd like the past not to exist  
It still does  
And as much as I'd like to feel like I belong here  
I'm just as scared as you_

_~ "Lost in Paradise", Evanescence_

* * *

Loki spent the next few weeks in Asgard recovering. He did not visit Midgard in order to direct most of his magic towards healing his battered body, although he kept an eye on Natasha through the glass mirror.

By the end of the third week, Loki's wounds were starting to close up and his strength had begun to return. His punishment having been completed, Loki was now back in his own room.

In the green and gold decor of his childhood bedroom, Loki waited for the Enchantress to make her appearance.

Amora did not keep him waiting long.

She materialized in the centre of his room with an audible pop. He smiled at her, but did not move from his position on the bed. Her answering grin was just as devilish.

"It seems as though you are in need of my services once again Prince Loki."

Her voice was sultry and full of suggestion. Loki rose from the bed gracefully and stalked towards her. He circled behind her and lowered his mouth to her ear.

"Indeed." His voice so low it was almost a growl.

He traced the edge of her very low cut dress with a finger and smirked to himself as he heard her breath hitch. Suddenly he retreated, all business again, knowing that his indifference would leave her wanting.

"I trust everything is in order?" He asked, running a finger along the edge of his desk nonchalantly.

"Of course, my Prince," She nodded eagerly, "everything is just as you asked."

"Good. Bring it to me when you have it. Do not get caught." Loki's face was stern, his eyes determined.

"The replication." He handed her a small, rounded stone tablet, barely bigger than his hand, but filled with ancient writings.

It was exactly like the one he remembered from his childhood. If he closed his eyes, he could still see the memory - a father who appeared to love him, and a brother who he thought would be an eternal companion. Both youngsters claimed a knee and gazed up in awe at the stories spun by the old man. A backdrop of glittering gold and endless treasures surrounded them.

"On the eve of the Solstice Festival, there will only be one guard at that time." He instructed.

"Yes, Your Majesty." The curvaceous woman was breathy with excitement as she tucked the stone into her robes and disappeared with another loud pop, and Loki was left once more to his thoughts.

Ever since he met the mortal woman, Loki felt a constant inner turmoil.

In one instant he despised his so-called family for denying him his birthright, for using him as a bargaining chip and then casting him aside, and in the next he despised himself for craving their love when he knew full well that a monster like him did not deserve the love of a family.

At times Loki would catch himself staring at the fiery redhead and hope would spark in his chest that she would be the one to pull him from the depths of his own misery, that she would save him. But these thoughts were always quickly quashed with bitter self-loathing. Someone like him could not be saved, did not _deserve_ to be saved.

Loki's heart was so bitter and twisted that he wasn't even sure if he had one anymore. But the way that the mortal woman looked at him sometimes, it was almost as if she...

But no, that wasn't possible, no one could love a monster like him. Not even his own family.

Though he loved his mother, and yes even his idiotic brother, unfalteringly, their love had been a lie. They could spin him pretty words of love and family, but he was the God of Lies, he could tell, and he knew that their actions spoke louder than their sickly sweet words.

And that knowledge caused bitterness to rift his heart. He was not only a god, but a Prince of Asgard, he should be loved by all, not cast out, rejected for the monster that lurks beneath his skin.

Loki allowed the constant anger to bubble up inside him. They had made him the 'bad guy', they had made him the villain, the outcast, the monster who haunted children's nightmares.

Loki had stopped trying to fight his fate the moment he had let go of that spear and fallen to his death in the Void. He had given up any hope of redemption, of becoming respected and equal, the moment he decided to give up his life. He had wanted to die, had wanted the pain and suffering to end.

Instead, it had only just begun.

These thoughts caused anger and sadness to swirl in his chest, tightening around his heart to the point of physical pain. With a great amount of self-control, Loki banished the feelings from his mind, disgusted that he allowed himself to feel in the first place.

He exhaled slowly, once again becoming detached from sentiment. He pondered idly whether his emotionally detached nature was a result of the rejection of his father, or a by-product of his Frost Giant heritage.

Loki pushed that repulsive thought from his mind along with the others.

He would not fall to sentiment.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Natasha couldn't remember the last time she felt this frustrated. Not only at Loki, but frustrated at herself for _missing_ the bastard.

Natasha had always been someone who preferred her own company over that of anyone else's, even Clint. _'Not that he would want to spend time with you at the moment anyway.'_ She mused bitterly.

While Clint had started talking to her normally again, she still didn't miss the sadness in his eyes every time he looked at her. And every time it made her heart twist with guilt.

When she had awoken the morning after she had bandaged his wounds, Loki had already left. And he had not come back since.

It frustrated Natasha but also made her worry a little; Loki had opened up to her that night and she couldn't help but wonder if maybe she had pushed too hard and scared him off.

Natasha didn't often misjudge a situation but Loki had always been a difficult one for her to read. All she could do was wait and hope that he would come back to her.

Except Natasha wasn't a particularly patient person.

Natasha groaned and ran a hand through her bright red locks. To top it all off, she was coming down with something. Something _nasty._

She still had bouts of nausea every other day and though at first she had just waited for it to pass, she now finally decided that enough was enough and she'd be damned if she didn't throw every drug she could get her hands on at this stupid sickness.

Of course, she refused to see the impersonal SHIELD doctors, and she couldn't see any civilian doctor. Instead, she slipped out from beneath the warm covers of her bed and made it her morning's mission to seek out the good Dr. Banner.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Bruce Banner was going over paperwork in the office that Tony had allocated him at Stark Tower, when he was interrupted by a hurried knock on the door. He looked up from the papers to see a disgruntled looking Natasha Romanov standing in his doorway.

"Natasha," His eyebrows raised in surprise, "unlike you to be up this early."

He stood and hurriedly removed the stack of papers from the chair opposite his desk, gesturing for her to take a seat.

She did so, rather ungracefully he might add. He sat back down across the desk.

"What can I do for you?" He asked, the picture of perfect bedside manner.

"Sorry to interrupt you Bruce, but I won't bother you long. I just wanted to see if you had something to help me." She smiled sincerely at the man she had come to regard as a friend.

Banner was quiet, considerate and thoughtful, whilst the other team members, not mentioning any names, (Tony, Clint and Thor) were often loud and boisterous.

"It's no bother at all," Bruce smiled back at her, "what do you need?"

"The strongest antibiotics you've got, Doc. Whatever this virus is, I've had it for almost a month now and it's really starting to get on my last nerve." Natasha crossed her arms grumpily.

Banner merely quirked an eyebrow. "A month?" He leant back in the chair and steepled his fingers in front of his mouth thoughtfully. "What are your symptoms?"

"Nausea, dizziness, fatigue." She listed on her fingers.

"Hmm, interesting. Sounds like you could be right. I'd like to take a blood sample and run a few tests to confirm if you'll consent?"

"Whatever you need." Natasha acquiesced, extending her left arm as Dr. Banner rummaged through a tray on the wall to collect the things he needed.

"It shouldn't take too long," He told her, swabbing the area and sliding the needle into her vein. "I'll come get you in a few hours when I have the results."

Natasha watched the little vile fill with her crimson blood. "Sure, I'll just be in the training room."

Banner stuck a small, round bandaid over the wound and gave her shoulder a friendly squeeze. Natasha took that as her cue to leave.

She stopped in the doorway and turned back to the doctor who was now dividing her blood into samples.

"Thank you, Bruce."

Bruce Banner was momentarily stunned by the genuine smile that the Black Widow bestowed upon him.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

In the large gym on the twenty second floor, Natasha steadily worked a defenceless punching bag into oblivion.

The fact that her thoughts were plagued by a certain green-eyed god, who _still_ had not visited her, only made her pound the bag harder. She heard the door click open and turned, thinking it was the doctor with her results.

Clint stopped in the doorway, surprise registered on his face, before muttering, "Sorry, I didn't know... I'll come back later."

He turned to leave again but Natasha called out.

"Wait! It's fine, really."

Clint eyed her for a moment before slinging his gym bag into the corner and then kneeling to rummage through it. Natasha watched him for a moment before sighing and returning her attention to the punching bag.

"Nat, can we talk?" Clint's nervous voice cut across the room.

"Sure." She shrugged, plopping down on a nearby bench and unstrapping her boxing gloves. Clint came to sit beside her.

"Nat, I'm sorry for the way I've been acting lately."

She nodded, neither of them sure what to say next; Clint was all she had, she didn't want to lose him over some nymphomaniac demi-god.

"You know you mean everything to me." Natasha almost whispered, so uncomfortable with communicating the feelings that she had been taught to suppress so long ago.

"You saved my life. I owe you. But it's more than that, you're like family, Clint. My only family. And no matter what happens, family will always love each other. But I can't love you the way to want me to Clint, I just can't. I'm not made for that kind of love, I never will be."

The silence stretched on for a moment before Clint broke it with a sigh.

"You were right as usual, it was your mission, and I got jealous, forgive me Nat?"

She smiled, relieved they were back to normal, "Of course."

"Now," she smirked, jumping up and dropping into a defensive stance in front of him, "spar with me?"

Clint grinned at her for the first time in weeks, and it felt so good to have her best friend back. "You're on!"

She was halfway through kicking his ass when they were interrupted by Dr. Banner suddenly bursting through the doors. His eyes found her.

"Natasha, can I speak with you a moment?" She laid a hand on Clint's shoulder in farewell as she passed him.

"You have the results?" She questioned as she reached the doctor. He nodded and exited the gym, as Natasha followed him down the hall she noticed he seemed nervous, almost as if he was wary of her.

As he pressed the down button on the elevator he finally spoke again, "Yes. But I don't think you're going to like them."

Suddenly, she felt as nervous as he looked.

He took off his glasses, wiped them on his shirt and replaced them before speaking again.

"There's really no other way to put this," he muttered. Even though Bruce only paused for a few seconds, the silence felt like an agonising eternity to Natasha.

Finally he turned to her.

"Natasha, you're pregnant."

Natasha felt like her stomach was dropping faster than the elevator. She merely stared at Banner, unable to speak. Banner took that as his cue to launch into diagnosis.

"I've checked and triple checked and you're human chorionic gonadotropin hormone levels are certainly high enough to assure pregnancy. Not only that, but every test showed you're hCG levels to be at around 26,100 mlU per millilitre. Which means you're approximately 15 weeks along."

That snapped Natasha out of her stupor.

"What?!"

Banner was surprised at her sudden outburst.

"Well I'll need to do an ultrasound to confirm of course."

Natasha shook her head, "No, no. I'm saying that's not possible, Dr. Banner, I'm sure you've read my file, you know as well as I do that I cannot get pregnant, even if I wanted to."

Bruce was wrong. It was impossible for her to get pregnant; a side effect of the super-soldier serum she had been injected with as a child, courtesy of the KGB, was infertility.

Banner frowned, subconsciously stroking the stubble on his chin. A ding broke the silence and the elevator doors opened to Banner's lab on one of the lower levels of Stark tower.

"Once we see the ultrasound we'll know for sure." Bruce told her as he led her past the science labs and to the large medical bay that took up the back half of the floor. She followed him into a side room containing a white hospital bed and a few machines and computers, a shelf full of medical supplies stood against the far wall.

"Alright, could you lie on the bed and pull your shirt up for me please? I'll set this up." He said, turning to a machine that sat on a steel trolley.

Natasha could hear the machine powering up as she pull her top up. She looked down as she lay flat on her back; her stomach still looked fairly flat, maybe a little rounder below her belly button than usual…

Banner wheeled the machine over and positioned a large computer screen near her head.

"Okay, this is gel," he explained, holding up a blue tube, "it will be cold."

Natasha raised one eyebrow. "Your bedside manner is atrocious." She teased.

He gave her a look and squeezed a large glob onto her stomach in retribution. It was freezing.

"Well," he began, grabbing the transducer from its holder and placing it in the goo, "it's not like I've done much doctoring since I left India."

He rubbed the transducer back and forth over her abdomen, staring at the screen the whole time. Finally Natasha's curiosity got the better of her and she followed his gaze to the screen.

It was black and white and very grainy, and Natasha couldn't make out anything at all until Bruce declared "There!" and Natasha saw a strange little blip moving around on the screen.

"See, there's its arms, and there's its little legs." Bruce pointed excitedly at what looked like four tiny buds sprouting out of an egg-sized jellybean.

Banner moved the transducer again, examining the picture, "Yep, definitely about fifteen weeks along." He commented.

But Natasha wasn't listening anymore; the blood drained from her face as her whole world was thrown inside a blender and turned to 'high'. How was this possible? No one who graduated from the Red Room Academy could have children, the Russians made sure of that. No, it couldn't be true, it must be a mistake. But the little blip that stared back at her from the screen told her that it wasn't.

Natasha frowned as she did the math in her head and realised that she wasn't sure if Loki had even been visiting her 15 weeks ago. Also, that ruled out Clint as the father, as their little romp was only about four weeks ago. And before that, she hadn't been with anyone in at least two years.

This whole thing was starting to give Natasha a headache.

She hadn't realised she had closed her eyes until she opened them to find Bruce staring at her concerned.

"Hey," He said softly, "go upstairs and get some sleep. We can do another ultrasound in two weeks and see how things are going but don't stress, okay? We'll figure this out." He gave her a warm smile and handed her a cloth to wipe the goo from her stomach.

Natasha thanked the doctor and left, knowing he was watching her worriedly but her mind was racing much too fast to care.

She didn't know how she knew, she could just feel it deep inside. It was the only way that could possibly make sense.

She was carrying Loki's baby.

Natasha made her way back up to her room in a daze. She closed the door and slid down the wall to the floor; she sat there until she lost track of time, until the reality sunk in.

What would her teammates do when they found out she was pregnant? What would they say when they found out Loki was the father? What would Fury do? Would they disown her? Send her back to Russia?

Would they want to kill the baby?

Natasha's eyes stung as the thought passed unbidden through her mind.

_No, _one side of her reasoned, _they were her friends, no matter how angry they were, they would never do something like that. _

But another, darker side of her disagreed, _they may be your "friends" but they are still part of a government organisation – a government organisation that would have no qualms about taking the life of a possibly super-powered, psychopathic child, in order to maintain peace._

Natasha shook her head; she refused to think like that. She would never allow that to happen, even if it was Loki's baby, it was hers too, and she would die before she let them take it from her.

Even after all these thoughts passed through Natasha's mind, one question still remained. _What would she tell Loki?_

If the bastard ever came back, that is...

* * *

**A/N: Okay, lets be honest now, who actually saw that coming? Haha**

**I love to hear your reviews people! They keep me motivated so keep sending them in and tell me what you think!**


	10. The Absence

Chapter 10. The Absence

* * *

_The maniac messiah,  
Destruction is his game.  
A beautiful liar,  
Love for him is pain._

_~ "End of All Days", 30 Seconds to Mars_

* * *

_Two Weeks Later_

"Incredible."

"Told you it was strange."

"This is beyond strange but, this is like Cirque de Soleil level freakiness."

Natasha rolled her eyes at that last comment. "Standing right here, Stark." Tony turned from the large, clear screen of ultrasonic pictures he and Bruce were staring at to throw her a wink and a toothy grin.

"Look at this though," Bruce regained Tony's attention with the piece of paper he was holding, "her hCG levels are over 4000." Tony hummed in agreement, resting his chin between his thumb and forefinger. He turned back to the screen and enlarged one of the images, with a few more taps a yellow line appeared from one end of the blob to the other.

"Foetal height is approximately 16.5 centimeters."

Sick of all the medical jargon, Natasha slid from her perch on the hospital bed and stalked over to them. "So what does that mean exactly?" She crossed her arms over her chest with difficulty, considering the significant growth they had undergone in the past two weeks.

Tony had been the first to notice of course.

The two scientists looked at each other before turning to her. "What it means," Bruce started, "is that your rate of growth has accelerated to more than triple the rate of normal pregnancy."

"What Dr. Jekyll is trying to say is that you're now 20 weeks pregnant. And if you keep developing the way you are, then you could be having your baby in three months rather than nine."

Natasha pursed her lips for a moment, letting the information sink in. "And this is definitely not a natural phenomenon? You're sure there has never been another recorded case of this?"

Both men nodded. "Positive." Tony added.

Bruce changed the subject. "It doesn't matter how, or why, what matters now is that you and your baby remain safe. Tony and I are worried about the strain this accelerated pregnancy might put on your body. We're not sure if it will be able to handle such a fast development. We thought maybe outside help might be a good idea at this stage, obstetricians and-"

"No." Natasha cut him off, "No outside help. You and Stark are the only ones to know about this, understood?" Both men gulped at the fierce little redhead before them.

"Well, that's another thing," Tony ventured bravely, looking to Bruce for help but receiving none. "We think Fury should know. You can't be going on missions anymore, the one you were on last week was dangerous enough."

Banner interjected. "It's not just your health and safety on the line now, and now that you're starting to show..." He trailed off, but Natasha could fill in the blanks.

"I'm a liability."

Banner had the decency to look uncomfortable.

Natasha nodded, knowing they were right, but that was not a conversation she was looking forward to.

"Fine. He's coming down here though. I'm not walking around this building looking like this." She gestured towards her barely noticeable stomach. Stark laughed, "Hate to break it to you Toots, but you're only gonna get fatter." In reply, he received a death-inducing, ball-shrivelling glare.

Bruce just shook his head. The next few months were going to be interesting to say the least.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Loki was curled up in the red velvet chair, his foot dangled over the arm as he turned the page, deeply engrossed in his current book. The sunlight streamed in through the humungous windows, and the musty library echoed with silence and eons of knowledge.

Until someone almost pounded the door in with their incessant knocking.

"Brother!" Thor burst into the library without waiting for Loki's acknowledgement. His chainmail clanked loudly, echoing up into the high ceiling. Loki let his book fall forward, smacking himself in the forehead in annoyance.

"Brother, come spar with me. It has been far too long since you were home, and I seem to recall from our last tussle that you have become a little rusty."

Loki lowered his book, raising an eyebrow.

"Then your memory is poorer than a minotaur with brain damage. Leave me be, Thor."

"Come now Loki, 'tis a glorious day! You have not been outside ever since father let you-"

Thor didn't finish his sentence, distracted by having to duck the book that Loki had flung at his head.

"Do not mention him to me!" Loki roared, rising from the chair and hands tightening into fists as his anger got the better of him. The stunned look on Thor's face quickly cooled his rage and he flopped back down into the chair, annoyed that Thor had managed to break his composure with a few meaningless words.

Loki rubbed a hand over his face, closing his eyes to hide his brother's hurt look from his sight.

"Leave me be, Thor." Loki repeated.

"As you wish." Thor's voice was gruff, and without even looking, Loki could tell his brother was put out.

"I shall see you at the Solstice Feast tonight, mother is looking forward to you dining with us once again."

Loki didn't react, waiting until he heard the slam of the heavy oak doors before he stood to retrieve his book from across the room.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

The feast was the same as any other, the men drinking far too much mead and becoming louder and more boisterous as the night wore on. His father sat at the head of the table, with Frigga and Thor at either side of course. There was no room for a Frost Giant in their perfect royal family.

Thor and the Warriors Three told ridiculously embellished stories of fighting and hunting, while Odin clapped his son proudly on the shoulder and gave a toast to the future king.

Loki hated these feasts, but the dancing that came afterward he quite enjoyed. It was one of the few things that he was better at than his brother, and one of the even fewer things that endeared him to the Asgardian maidens.

Thor had two left feet and only a brave maiden with a high pain tolerance would dare dance with him, and out of the Warriors Three, only Frandal could dance.

Loki revelled in being the centre of attention for a change, as he twirled partner after partner into his arms and out again. Finally, one particular maiden caught his attention for the rest of the night.

"I have it." Amora whispered in his ear as he pulled her close and dipped her. "Hush now, such a beautiful dance is no place for business."

Amora giggled as he twirled her and pressed her body against his suggestively. "Then maybe we should retire to your bedroom to discuss _business_." Her voice dripped with want and she fluttered her eyelashes at him.

Loki considered the suggestion. How long had it been since he'd seen Natasha? Earth time moved differently to Asgardian time. He wondered if she missed him, or if she was glad for the riddance of the disturbance in her life. '_Probably the latter' _he thought bitterly, before banishing the redhead from his mind and turning his attention back to the busty blonde.

Amora let out a tiny moan as a predatory grin bloomed across his face. With Amora, he would not have to control his strength or hold back as he did with Natasha.

Humans were so fragile.

There were only a handful of couples left twirling to the music now. No one took much notice when Prince Loki took Amora by the hand and led her from the ballroom. As he led her down the candle-lit corridors to his bedchambers, Loki grinned to himself. He could _always _make time for a little mischief.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

With a flick of his wrist, the bonds tying Amora's hands and ankles together disappeared, as did the rope with which he had strung her to his bedroom ceiling, but Loki did not bother to catch her as she collapsed on the floor, exhausted.

He sat on the bench at the end of his bed and his mouth twisted into a callous smile at the sight of her bruised bosoms heaving as she sucked in breath. He leant forward and ran a fingertip over her red raw backside, feeling the welts left on the heated skin. He took in the sight of her bruised and battered body with great enjoyment, but grew annoyed when she still had not opened her eyes.

"Amora," he called, "I believe the purpose of this visit was originally for business?" Her pale green eyes opened as he stood. He strode over to his armoire and pulled a clean tunic over his head; his leather pants had remained on.

Amora sat up and made complex movements with shaky hands, a bluish glow appearing between them. In a flash of light, a stone tablet and two coloured gems appeared in her hands and she held them out to him.

He caressed the cool stone with his fingertips and eyed the sparkling jewels, the promise of impending mischief caused a malicious grin to split his face. He vanished the items the same way Amora had made them appear, sending them to a rift in space which only he could access.

He turned back to Amora, who had begun to dress with shaking limbs. "The fakes are in place I assume?" He questioned. She gave him a wry smile, "Of course. No one will be able to tell the difference."

"Well done, my pet." He ran his thumb across a bruise on her neck and smiled. "Now to bed with you, we leave at dawn." An excited smirk crossed her face at his words, and she bowed happily to him before disappearing with a pop.

Loki flopped back onto his enormous canopy bed. While he was with Amora tonight, his thoughts had wandered to Natasha. He pondered how careful he was with Natasha, compared to his past lovers. He recalled the one time he had lost control of his strength; the one time hurting her had not been his intention.

Mortals were annoyingly fragile.

He contemplated these feelings, finally coming to the conclusion that if he were to seriously injure her during their lovemaking, it may actually cause him to feel...guilty.

Loki fell into a fitful sleep, plagued with nightmares in which he cradled a broken body with vibrant red hair in his arms and wept as his father shouted that he was a monster, and that everything he touched would decay and turn to ruin.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

A bolt of pain lanced through Natasha's abdomen as she slid off the hospital bed. Doctor Cowell tried to assist her but she brushed the woman off, giving Bruce and Tony a pointed look as she did so.

She had not wanted outside help but the two scientists had rather forcibly insisted on it. She had argued until Director Fury had ordered her to accept help and even went to the trouble of finding a highly trained, government employed obstetrician.

Dr. Cowell, ever the professional, continued as if nothing had happened. "Are you sure you don't want to know the sex?"

Natasha's mouth was a hard line. "Yes." Her words were clipped.

"Aw Nat, that's no fun." Stark pouted. "How am I supposed to know whether to paint its room pink or blue!"

Natasha rubbed at her belly with a frown. "For the last time Stark, the baby is not living here!"

Stark paused for a moment, but continued to ignore her warning, "So yellow then? Yellow's a neutral colour. Or would you prefer green?"

Natasha sighed. "Why can't things just be simple for once?" She muttered to herself. Apparently Bruce heard her though because he chuckled.

"How are your pain levels?" Damn doctors and their incessant questions.

"Negligent. I'm fine." She replied.

The doctor exhaled through her nose. Deciding she would get no more information from the mother-to-be, she turned to the other two. "If her pain gets much worse, which I'm assuming it will with the strain the rapid growth rate is putting on her body, then I think you should at least consider an elective caesarean-"

"No!" Natasha's head whipped around, cutting the doctor off. "No C-sections. No painkillers. I'm fine. The baby will be fine." Her voice was calm but her eyes shone with determination.

The doctor eyed her for a moment. "Alright then, I'll be back in a week to see how much further she has progressed." Bruce thanked her as she shouldered her large medical bag and left.

Natasha wandered over to the full length mirror in the corner and studied her belly from the side. She was still able to fit into her favourite pair of jeans but it now looked like she'd swallowed a whole rockmelon. In the reflection, she watched as Bruce and Tony came to stand on either side of her.

"Natasha," Bruce started gently, "maybe you should consider-"

"No."

Tony tried, "I can have a state-of-the-arc NICU installed, babies born at around 25 weeks still have a good chance-"

"No. No chances. I will carry this baby to term."

Tony looked to Bruce, then placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Natasha, that could kill you."

Natasha said nothing. She knew that.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

"Check." Bruce told her smugly. Natasha grinned. "Again." She demanded.

"You're not going to let me get back to work until you win, are you?" Bruce manoeuvred the chess pieces back to their original starting positions with an indulgent shake of his head.

Natasha wriggled back into the couch. Stark had updated her room with the latest medical equipment that Bruce and Dr. Cowell would need for her care. Natasha had been against his showy display of affluence and compassion at first, but she had to admit that it was quite handy to have everything in the one room so she didn't have to go wandering around the building looking like a whale all the time.

Bruce and Tony came to visit her often and, not that she would ever admit it, but she quite enjoyed the company. She was sure she would have gone insane if she had to spend the next two months cooped up in her bedroom with no missions to break the monogamy.

Director Fury had a hand in preventing her boredom as well. Though she couldn't go out in the field anymore, she was still a great spy and Fury allowed her to run the surveillance work on sensitive cases.

When she had first told him of the little kink in her mission, Fury had been more than a little put out by the fact that one of his best spies had been knocked up by a homicidal demi-god. But he had reacted better than she had expected, eventually deciding to put the old 'nature vs nurture' battle to the test and judge whether or not the kid had any powers after it was born, and if it could be an advantage to the organisation.

Unfortunately, the rest of the team had not handled the news quite so well.

"_We should just send it home with Thor next time he visits. It belongs with them, it can be their problem." Steve suggested, rubbing his chin in thought. _

"_No, it is too big a risk to world security to allow a possible threat to fall into their hands." Agent Hill stated from her position at Fury's right hand. "We need to be able to keep an eye on it."_

"_It's still a child." Banner pleaded with them. "A child that will be born on American soil, and has a right to be free. You cannot deny that." There was silence for a moment as everyone considered the gravity of the situation. _

_Tony piped up from his casual position on the sofa. "I agree with what Boss-man said earlier." He jabbed a thumb towards Director Fury. "Even if the kid does have powers, we'll have him from birth. We can bring him up right, raise him to be one of us. Imagine if we had powers that matched Loki's on our side. It would be a huge asset." Tony waved his arms around to illustrate his point._

"_We should just kill it." Clint's voice came from the dark corner where he had positioned himself after the rest had formed their little circle of discussion. The room became so deathly silent that everyone heard Natasha's sharp intake of breath. _

"_Nat's never wanted a kid, and it's a monster, just like it's father." And with that, Clint stormed from the room._

_The Avengers revived their discussion after the shock of Clint's statement had passed, but Natasha did not listen to any more of it, she was already struggling enough as it was to keep it all together. She could practically feel the walls closing in around her, suffocating both her and her baby, keeping them trapped here forever like animals. Her breathing quickened, she had to get out of that room._

_Natasha stood suddenly, but froze as the debate fell silent once more and all eyes turned to her. Finding that her mouth had suddenly become the Sahara desert, she tried to lick her lips before muttering "Excuse me" and practically running for the door._

_Bruce found her an hour or so later on the rooftop garden, sitting by the waterfall. He could see the dried tear stains on her cheeks but said nothing. _

"_Natasha? We're not going to hurt your baby or send it away. They've decided to keep you here, okay?" _

_She let the doctor help her up and lead her back to her room. "Don't worry, I won't let anything happen to you or your baby." He muttered, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze._

Natasha's brooding was broken as Steve and Clint rushed past her door, all suited up for battle. Bruce was up and heading for the door to check it out, but was beaten to it by Iron Man.

"C'mon, Dr. Jekyll." Stark motioned hurriedly with one metal arm. "I think we might need you for this one."

"Why? What is it?" Natasha demanded, arms resting protectively over her stomach. Stark looked to her, eyes roaming over her protruding belly and anxious face. He paused a moment before deciding to tell her.

"It's Loki. He's back."

* * *

**A/N: Another chapter down! Please review guys!**


	11. The Return

**A/N: So I got a few reviews stressing about the chiffhanger last chapter haha SORRY GUYS! Had to be done though :) and it probably won't be the last cliffhanger either cause I'm evil like that ;) But to make up for it, here's a mid-week update! Yayyyy!  
**

**Also, I've just realised that I've been spelling Rogers with a 'd' for the past 10 chapters :/ OOPS, sorry if that's annoyed anyone :3**

**Anyway, please, please, please review guys, I love hearing all your thoughts and feedback and it really helps motivate me to write when other people get excited about my work :D**

**On with the show!**

* * *

Chapter 11. The Return

* * *

_Darling, I forgive you, after all  
Anything is better than to be alone.  
And in the end I guess I had to fall.  
Always find my place among the ashes._

_~ "Lithium", Evanescence_

* * *

Natasha followed the helicarrier from Stark's Ferrari. After everyone had left, Natasha had rushed to find Pepper, who had gladly handed over the keys with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. Natasha would have to thank her later.

She pulled up at the Empire State University where the helicarrier had landed; thankfully it was the weekend so there should not be any civilians. The pain in her abdomen increased slightly as she jumped out of the car, but she ignored it and slipped her Glock into the waistband of her pants.

The sound of shattering glass drew her attention to a nearby building and she glanced up to see Stark being thrown out of a window on the top floor. He tumbled through the air for a moment before regaining control of his thrusters. Natasha heard him yell, "That's the second time!" before zooming back in through the same window.

She hurried towards the building and quickly raced up the stairs. She paused for a moment outside the door, getting her breath back and listening to the sounds of combat coming from inside.

As the next loud explosion sounded, she cracked open the door and slipped through.

Natasha found herself in the old archive part of the university library, hundreds of bookshelves formed floor-to-ceiling rows and a glass dome in the centre of the ceiling let in light.

At the other end of the room, she could see the neat rows of books had been destroyed by the fighting, shelves lay in splinters on the floor and torn out pages were scattered around them, like fallen snow.

Blue flashes of light from Stark and green flashes, which she assumed were from Loki, lit up the roof. From what she could see over the bookshelves, Clint was perched in the rafters and Bruce had obviously not yet hulked out.

She crept quickly along the back wall, the sounds of the struggle becoming louder as she got closer. She peered past a potted plant at the end of the aisle and surveyed the scene of destruction before her.

Stark's bolts of arc reactor energy sizzled from his palms, but Loki was deflecting them easily. Some kind of barrier or force field was preventing Clint's arrows from striking his target, and Rogers struggled on the ground as he was held captive by the pink beams of energy emanating from the woman standing by Loki's side.

She was very tall and slim; her bust spilled out the top of her dress and her long, perfect blonde hair flowed all the way down her back. Natasha had never seen her before, but she instantly disliked her.

Natasha thought fast, Loki and his blonde bimbo did not know she was here yet, she needed to use that to her advantage and attack from the shadows.

Natasha slid the gun out of her waistband and aimed it at the blonde. As soon as she fired, she ducked and rolled to find a new cover.

As she had suspected, the force field had stopped her bullet, but it had gotten the blonde's attention. She whirled around, eyes searching wildly for her attacker. She leapt toward the spot where Natasha had just been, but found nothing.

Natasha fired another shot, it barely missed her. Interestingly, it seemed to encounter no resistance, and Natasha realised that the force field must no longer be protecting her now that she had moved away from Loki.

Natasha aimed to fire again, but before she could blink, the blonde disappeared in front of her eyes with a pop. Natasha's eyes darted back and forth, searching carefully.

A sudden tap on her shoulder caused her to whirl around, only to come face to face with the blonde. As the woman raised her arm to strike, Natasha ducked and the blonde let out a shrill scream.

Natasha glanced up to see an arrow protruding from the woman's shoulder.

Looks like the Hawk had his eye on her.

Natasha retreated back into the shadows as the blonde wrenched out the arrow with a snarl and threw a bolt of pink lightning into the rafters in an attempt to dislodge Hawkeye.

The woman stalked up and down the rows of books and Natasha followed from a distance, gun in hand. When she turned away to peer around a corner, Natasha took the opportunity and fired three bullets at the woman. They all made contact.

The woman shrieked as blood seeped through her dress. Natasha stepped out from her hiding spot as she fired again. One bullet grazed her arm but the other missed as the woman disappeared once more.

And reappeared right in front of Natasha.

Natasha barely heard Clint scream her name before she felt the blonde behemoth's fist connect with her face, the force sending her flying back through the air and into the midst of the main fight.

Natasha braced herself, landing painfully on her shoulder but managing to roll through most of the impact. She flipped into a crouch, gripping her guns tightly as the blonde stalked menacingly towards her. Her face was contorted into a snarl and her hands began to glow with magic; Natasha's trigger finger tightened.

And then she was gone. Tackled to the ground by Steve.

Apparently he rather resented being tied down with pink magic.

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Bruce was starting to turn a little green. And not in a sickly way. She had to stop this fight, now.

Standing, she walked out to where Loki and Iron Man were exchanging blows. "Loki, stop this!" She shouted, aiming her guns at his head.

"Ah, the little spider returns. I thought you were missing one from your group of misfits." He grinned as he dodged Stark's blast of energy and sent out his own. The snake-like coil wrapped around the neck of Stark's suit and, with a flick of his hand, Loki sent Stark flying back into Bruce.

Unfortunately, this made Banner rather mad. With a roar, he started to shift and change, growing in size.

Natasha needed to diffuse the situation. Her mind raced, _'He doesn't know, he's pretending like we don't know each other, he doesn't know that they know.'_ Well, now was as good a time as any. Hopefully, it would stun him enough that they could detain him and calm Banner.

Doubt flashed briefly through her mind as she wondered if maybe Loki wouldn't even care at all. But she drew a deep breath, steeling herself, and caught Loki's eye.

"Loki! I'm pregnant!"

The world seemed to slow and sound grew dull. She could barely hear Stark shouting at Bruce, or Steve and the woman throwing each other through bookshelves.

Loki froze, his eyes widened and his lips parted slightly. Her own eyes were wide as she waited for his reaction. It seemed like an eternity before his face softened and he stepped cautiously towards her.

"Natasha." He called gently.

They were barely a meter apart when someone screamed, "Look out!" and Natasha was thrown to the floor as a giant green fist came down on top of her lover.

"NO!" Natasha screamed, but there was nothing she could do to stop him.

The Hulk pounded him, throwing him into walls and floors – whatever was closest.

"Bruce, Bruce! Stop, look at me!" She tried to get his attention but it was no use.

Everyone else was frozen, even Steve and the blonde had stopped fighting to watch in horror as the Hulk splattered Loki's blood across the walls and floor and beat him to a bloody pulp on the ground.

They stared in shock as the Hulk stood over the crumpled form, chest heaving. He began to shrink down to normal size as he calmed, the threat eliminated.

A naked Bruce stumbled behind a pot plant for cover, eyes wide and pleading with her, "Natasha. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to… I couldn't stop." But Natasha didn't hear him.

Her guns clattered to the ground and she stumbled dazedly towards the bloody mess on the floor. Limbs lay at unnatural angles and his skull was caved in, a pool of blood seeped out from beneath him and slowly oozed across the floor towards her boots.

The silence was deafening.

"I must say, I'm rather glad that wasn't me."

His voice.

She spun on her heel, almost giving herself whiplash. Loki leant against the back wall nonchalantly, not a scratch on him. She looked back to the bloodied corpse on the floor and watched as the illusion shimmered and disappeared.

Loki grinned mischievously at her and relief flooded through her, making her feel light-headed. She started towards him, breaking out into a run as her heart soared.

And she punched him in the face.

"Bastard." She muttered, but still he grinned at her through bloody teeth. At least he had the decency to look sheepish.

Everyone was still kind of frozen, stunned at first by the apparent death of a god, then unsure as to whether there was still a fight occurring.

Apparently Clint regained his senses first, as an arrow lodged itself in Loki's chest.

He grunted in pain and turned away from her. Clint swung down from the rafters with rage painting his features, "GET AWAY FROM HER YOU MONSTER!"

A high-pitched shriek pierced the air as pink lightning shot from the blonde's fingers and threw Clint, Tony and Steve back against the wall. She then turned to Natasha, who's eyes flitted to her gun just a few feet away, and she prepared to make a dash for it.

But before the two could engage, Loki stood and stepped in front of her. "No, Amora." He commanded, pulling the arrow from his chest and wiping the blood that he had coughed up from his chin with the back of his hand.

The woman seemed affronted. "Loki? What is the meaning of this?" She demanded.

Loki said nothing, merely regarded her with cool disinterest, which seemed to only anger the woman more. Tony and Steve stood and watched with interest as the woman's face twisted into a snarl as realisation dawned. Luckily, Clint had been knocked unconscious or he probably would have gone straight back to fighting.

"Oh I see." The blonde spat. "This is the little mortal whore that you've been sneaking away to visit all the time, isn't it?"

Loki's face remained expressionless as usual, but Natasha noticed his fists were clenched at his sides. Natasha snorted and everyone turned to stare at her. She shrugged and explained, eyeing the blonde disdainfully, "Well, maybe if you put your tits back in, then you could call me a whore."

A quiet, strangled noise made Natasha look up at Loki, and she was quite surprised to see it looked like he was holding back laughter.

The blonde, on the other hand, was not amused. She was literally shaking with rage, and pink energy crackled around her.

"Those nights I came to entertain you, and you turned me down because you were with _her_?!" She pointed a clawed finger at Natasha.

"Wow, who knew. Turns out Reindeer Games is a real lady-killer." Tony commented to Steve, who snorted.

"Enough Amora, your presence is no longer needed." Loki waved her off.

She bristled, suddenly turning to attack and diving toward Natasha. But before anyone could react, Loki stepped in front of her and extended his arm.

Amora froze as suddenly as if Loki had encased her in ice. Her eyes were wide and her lips parted slightly as she gazed up at Loki, who now practically _glowed_ with rage and power.

If anyone had doubted that Loki was of royal blood before, they certainly did not now.

"You dare disobey me?" His voice boomed and his power and energy permeated the air around him like an aura.

Amora seemed to come to her senses and dropped to her knees in front of him, bowing her head low. "Please forgive me for my insolence, my Prince, I lost myself."

Loki's face was hard and impassive as he glared down at her, but when he spoke next, his voice was far softer.

"Breyting á áformum." He spoke in a strange, melodic language that none of them understood. "Go home, Amora."

Amora gazed up at him as he gave his final command, trying to decipher his intentions. She bowed her head once more, and with a loud pop, she disappeared.

There was a long moment of shocked and bewildered silence. Tony, of course, was the first to break it.

"So, do all the chicks on Asgard look like that?"

Loki smirked, but when he did not answer the question, Tony's eyebrows shot up to his hairline and he turned excitedly to Steve, who merely shook his head in exasperation.

"So, are you going to arrest me or not?" Loki broke the silence again and held out his wrists together to demonstrate.

"This has been a weird day." Steve muttered as he removed the handcuffs from his belt and moved to stand before the demi-god.

"So you're just handing yourself over? Willingly?" Steve enquired suspiciously as he tightened the reinforced metal around Loki's wrists.

"Clearly." Loki replied jovially as he held up his hands and jingled the metal chain to illustrate his point.

By the wall, Clint was beginning to rouse as Tony attempted to wake him.

"But why? Why are you doing this?" Steve insisted.

Suddenly, Natasha grunted and clutched her stomach as a flash of pain sliced through her abdomen. Tony left Clint and rushed to aid Natasha. Loki looked on solemnly, but didn't answer the captain.

"Anyone have spare pants?" Bruce squeaked, his cheeks bright red, but no one heard him.

He glanced warily at the leaves of the banana plant that stood next to him.

He sighed.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Director Fury greeted the Avengers and their captive as they marched into Stark Tower. Glaring at the demi-god with his one good eye, he then motioned to the SHIELD operatives around him, who promptly took Loki from the custody of Rogers and Hawkeye (who was severely pissed that he had missed his chance to beat up the god due to his unconsciousness), cuffed him with the glowing magic-restricting shackles that had detained him last time he was here, and proceeded to march him to his cell.

Fury then directed his, well, _fury_, to the rest of the group.

"So, the other one got away then?" His tone was calm but his expression was furious.

"Well, to be fair," Tony piped up. "Loki actually sent her all the way back to Asgard or whatever, so technically, we're good." Tony gave the Director the thumbs up but Fury merely glared at the offending appendage as though he could make it wither and die with his mind. "And you just believed him?" Fury raised an eyebrow. "Plus you destroyed an entire university building."

"Well, last time it was the whole city, so I'd consider this one a win." Stark muttered under his breath.

"And you," Fury turned his gaze to Natasha, "You shouldn't even be out of bed." Natasha opened her mouth to argue but, upon failing to find a good enough excuse, she merely muttered, "Yes, sir" and slunk off back to her bedroom like a chastised dog with its tail between its legs.

Natasha lay in her king sized bed, trying to ignore the occasional stabs of pain that radiated from her abdomen.

She wondered what they would do with Loki now, whether she would be able to talk to him, to ask all her questions. She wondered what he was doing at the University in the first place, whether he was plotting another world domination scheme.

She wondered what he thought about their child.

**A/N: Did I scare anyone there for a minute? Haha don't worry guys, I wouldn't kill Loki off **_**that **_**easily *cue evil laugh***

**And 'Breyting á áformum' means 'change of plans', well according to Google translate anyway.**


	12. The Cell

Chapter 12. The Cell

* * *

_You should have known  
The price of evil  
And it hurts to know  
That you belong here_

_~ "Nightmare", Avenged Sevenfold_

* * *

She was hot.

She kicked the bed covers off her in annoyance.

She was cold.

She hurriedly pulled the covers up to her nose.

She was dead tired, but her body would not let her sleep. The night dragged on this way; Natasha would doze off into a fitful sleep and then wake just as suddenly. It was in the wee hours of the morning that she realised she had a fever.

Deciding she would get no more sleep, Natasha rugged up and tried to walk it off. The normally bright and friendly corridors of Stark Tower were eerily quiet and dim, the few beams of moonlight that permeated the darkness only caused her already pale skin to look sickly.

Not having paid much attention to where she was going, Natasha was surprised to find her feet had taken her to the detainment cells. Although, Natasha thought, maybe it shouldn't be such a surprise; she did have so many questions she wanted answers to.

Yet as she hesitantly stood in front of the door to his cell, she couldn't think of a single one.

She stood there for a moment, debating with herself. She almost turned to leave when he spoke.

"Do come in Natasha. I wouldn't want you to catch a, what do you call it? A cold?"

Composing her features into a look of indifference, Natasha pressed her palm to the Biopad and the heavy steel door slid open with a whoosh.

He lay along the steel bench on the far wall, arms folded under his head and one leg crossed over a bent knee. He looked for all the world as if the uncomfortably hard, cold, dark cell did not bother him one bit. However, Natasha knew that was only how he wanted to appear.

She knew he was waiting for her to speak, to demand answers off him, to yell and berate him for what he had done, for leaving her. Instead, she waited.

At first he played her game, neither willing to admit defeat and speak first. Then suddenly he sighed, sat up and faced her. The mask of indifference Loki constantly wore slipped – only for a moment, but it was enough for her to notice the concern in his eyes.

"You should sit." He told her.

She sat on the end of the bench across from him, still refusing to speak. Loki leant back against the wall and attempted to cross his arms over his chest. Upon realising that his hands were still cuffed, he dropped them dejectedly into his lap.

Finally, he broke the silence.

"Well, well, lucky you, bestowed with the _honour_ of carrying the bastard child of Loki, God of Evil." His voice dripped with sarcasm.

Natasha's eyebrow twitched at the 'bastard child' comment. She would have thought they had bigger things to discuss other than the fact that the child was conceived out of wedlock.

Natasha noted the small changes in Loki's features carefully in the dim light. If she were not trained to pick up the tiniest detail, she would have missed the brief flickers of anger and resentment, followed by grief and pain that flitted across Loki's face before his mask was once again replaced.

Time passed in silence, before he asked quietly, "Do you wish for a girl or a boy?" She remained silent, and Loki thought she intended to go their entire encounter without speaking, when she finally answered.

"Either." She told him. "Just as long as it's happy and healthy."

Loki bowed his head to hide the flicker of a smile that crossed his face. Natasha caught it anyway.

She decided it was time to tackle the numerous elephants in the room. "What are you up to Loki?"

A brief smirk crossed his face as he leant back against the wall. "Whatever do you mean?"

"You know what I mean."

Loki shrugged. "Perhaps. But the truth is often the simplest answer. Perhaps there is nothing." He evaded.

"It's never nothing with you."

He grinned wickedly at that.

Natasha pursed her lips and tried a different tact. "Who's the girl?"

At this, Loki smirked. "Ah yes, Amora the Enchantress. She may fail to see the bigger picture at times, but her powers are useful."

Natasha snorted condescendingly before she could stop herself, and Loki grinned mischievously. "Jealous are we, little spider?"

Natasha ignored him and tried to prod further.

"So there's a bigger picture? And that would involve…?"

Loki smiled at her, almost sadly. "Natasha, I do not believe these are the questions you came down here to ask."

Natasha frowned and crossed her arms. She hated it when he was right.

"Why did you leave?" She finally asked.

Loki leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees and letting his hands droop between them.

"I have always found that plans are useless, but planning is indispensable. Besides, did it not make my leaving a little easier? The fact that you hate me a little more?"

He glanced up then, and their eyes met. He seemed smug, awaiting an answer that he thought he already knew. Natasha's breath caught in her throat and she felt as if a tight band was constricting around her chest. So many unsaid things seemed to hang in that moment. Emerald and sapphire clashed and the world stopped for a moment, holding its breath as she licked her dry lips and tried to find her voice.

"I don't hate you." Her voice was tiny, barely audible, but he heard it, and his face fell into confusion, baffled by her answer.

He dropped his gaze to the floor and the spell was broken. "Sentiment." She heard him mutter, and Natasha struggled to control her erratic heartbeat.

After a moment, he continued, "I can't tell you anything. Not now. Not yet. However, the one thing I do want you to know is that I never meant for this to happen." He looked into her eyes once again, trying to convey his sincerity.

"I would never wish that upon anyone." He mumbled quietly, glancing pointedly at her swollen stomach.

Natasha frowned at that, but Loki looked so lost in his thoughts, staring at the ground between his feet, that she didn't push the issue. They lapsed into silence once again and Natasha felt a strange surge of disappointment.

Natasha felt drowsy, her heart still pounded loudly in her ears, she felt hot and stuffy and she closed her eyes to stop her head from spinning.

"You're sweating." Loki commented.

She glared at him. "Well, if it wasn't so damn hot in here." She complained.

Loki rose from his seat then, moving to stand in front of her. Natasha tensed, ready to leap up and bolt for the door. Loki frowned down at her.

"Natasha," She felt a shiver run up her spine at the gentle way he called her name, "the room's temperature is quite cool." He gave her a strange look. "I believe you are ill."

He gingerly sat down next to her, gauging her reaction. She rubbed at her tired eyes. "Perhaps you should scurry back to bed, little spider." He smirked, but she shook her head.

"Can't sleep. Too hot."

Loki's brows knit together, thinking for a moment before coming to a decision. "I may be able to help with that. Lie down." He ordered, gesturing at his lap. She gave him a look that very clearly asked if he was crazy, but he merely waved at her impatiently.

Natasha laid her head on his thigh gingerly, eyeing him the entire time. "Now, close your eyes." He instructed.

She glared at him.

He grinned, holding up his hands, palms face up in surrender. "No mischief. Promise." Reluctantly, she closed her eyes. They had, after all, been in more intimate positions then this.

Cold suddenly encompassed her heated forehead and she gasped, eyes shooting open. Loki clucked his tongue at her, "Uh-uh, no peeking."

She closed her eyes again just to feel the cool relief. Icy fingers brushed her hairline, stroking her forehead and temples. The relief from the oppressive heat of her body was instantaneous, and Natasha felt a sense of calm wash over her as cool fingertips brushed the sweat from her face and neck.

Cool hands trailed down her chest and back of her neck, before making their way back up to her forehead.

Natasha felt her heart rate slow and her breathing deepen, and before she realised what she was doing, or could stop herself, she had fallen soundly asleep in Loki's cool embrace.

She never even saw the genuine smile that ever so slightly graced the features of the God of Lies.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Natasha woke as her name was called in that enthralling, ethereal accent, "Natasha. I think it's time you return to your room little spider, before your friends become suspicious."

She sat up and rubbed her bleary eyes. She could feel his eyes boring into her as she stood and stretched. She knew he was searching for a reaction to her moment of weakness, but she would not give him one.

She headed for the door, fighting the urge to look back, but lost. Blue eyes collided with bright green, and Natasha was startled by how clear and open his emerald eyes were, they seemed to see right through her, piercing all her carefully constructed walls and defences, leaving her vulnerable.

She turned and opened the door before he could captivate her any more.

Natasha shuffled slowly up the stairs from the basement, trying to decipher the perplexing paradox that is Loki. She wandered back up to her room to shower and dress, throwing on the baggiest shirt she could find in an attempt to hide the bulge of her stomach.

Feeling much better after her temperature-regulated sleep, Natasha decided she would be productive today and see how Clint was doing with the Sawfford cartel case.

However, when she got to the Communications room, Clint was nowhere to be found.

She frowned, he was supposed to report for duty at 0900 hours, and Clint was rarely ever late. "JARVIS," she called out to the ever-present AI, "Can you locate Agent Barton?"

"Of course, Miss Romanov," came JARVIS' automated voice, "He appears to be on the basement levels, Detainment cell number 214." Natasha felt her stomach drop and her blood run cold.

She knew that cell number as she was there only an hour ago. She had a bad feeling about this.

Racing down the corridor as fast as her distorted sense of balance would allow, she realised as soon as she got on the elevator that someone had pushed the button from the penthouse as the lift continued upwards instead of down.

Stark's floor.

She grit her teeth, hands balling into fists at her side. "Dammit Stark!" She muttered angrily to herself. She was going to kill him when he stepped foot on this lift.

The ridiculous elevator music only fuelled her rage. The consecutive numbers on the digital display above the door ticked up slowly, and her ire rose with it. As the numbers reached 30, she glared at the door, waiting for it to open so she could get her hands on the megalomaniac, egotistical bastard.

"Whoa!" Tony threw his hands up as if in self-defence as soon as he saw her. "What crawled up your ass and died?"

She rolled her eyes at him, yanking him into the lift and bashing the button for the basement again.

"Hey babe, easy on the merchandise."

She stopped pounding the defenceless button and turned her anger towards him instead. "I need to get to the basement, _now_." If looks could kill, Tony' great-grandchildren would be dead.

But, as always, Stark could not help himself.

"Off to see lover boy?" He waggled his eyebrows at her. Natasha grit her teeth so hard she swore she heard a tooth crack. She had never wanted to hit someone so much in her life.

"Clint is down there." She caught Tony's eye, trying to convey the seriousness of the situation. "And he didn't report in on the Sawfford case this morning."

Suddenly, all humour evaporated from Stark's face as he realised what she was implying. He glanced toward the ceiling. "JARVIS, initiate override sequence 81218, destination basement."

"You may want to hold on to something." He told her, stepping back himself and grabbing a hold of the metal bar below the mirror. She followed suit warily.

The elevator made a clanging sound, then suddenly it fell, dropping through the floors like a rock. The numbers on the display flashed past faster than Natasha could read them. The lift then slowed suddenly, before coming to a complete stop.

"Override complete." Announced the mechanical voice that was JARVIS.

Natasha's stomach churned violently – it seemed the baby did not agree with falling thirty stories.

Tony extended a hand to steady her but she brushed him off, muttering "You could have warned me." She heard Stark laugh sheepishly as she exited the lift.

Gathering her bearings, she hurried down the corridor, turning the corner and….she froze.

Clint strode down the hallway towards her, hands in his pockets and whistling a tune under his breath. He did not make eye contact with her, did not acknowledge her at all. But Natasha swore she saw him smirk as he passed her by, and suddenly her heart was in her throat, filling her with cold dread.

Natasha suddenly wondered how much force and sadistic intent it would take to torture a god.

"Nat." Stark's voice called out from behind her as he caught up, breaking her from her reverie.

He placed a hand on her shoulder, concern causing his brows to knit together, but she shook him off and doubled her speed down the hall. As she half ran down the stairs to the cell block, Iron Man at her heels, she prayed to a god she didn't believe in that she would not be too late.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

"Tell me what you're planning Loki." Clint spat menacingly.

Loki smirked up at the archer, willing himself to appear unruffled even though he was being cooked from all sides and the heat was starting to make him feel woozy. He felt as if he had been shoved in a volcano of Muspelheim, and he glared at the industrial sized heaters that surrounded him, wishing he could make them melt with his mind.

Loki cocked his head to the side, peering up at the mortal as if trying to decide if he was worthy of an answer. He said nothing however, not being able to concentrate on coming up with a witty remark as sweat dripped down his neck and dampened his chest.

He didn't know how they found out about his weakness for heat, he could only assume Thor must have told someone something in passing and SHIELD had kept this information for just this occasion.

He could feel his lungs burning as he struggled to breathe, the laughing and jeering of his torturers were drowned out by the ringing in his ears. If he were honest with himself, he had not predicted this when he willingly turned himself over to the Avengers.

The heat clouded his mind and weakened him tremendously; he could not even conjure the strength to summon his magic and break free of these chains and smite his captors.

The archer's face steadily grew red with anger as Loki ignored him. He bared his teeth at the bound demi-god and balled his fists. Loki prepared himself for the blow, but instead the disgraced Avenger turned to his leering comrades.

"Bring out the thumbscrew." Agent Barton crossed his arms over his chest and sneered sadistically at the captive god as his henchmen carried over a strange metallic device. Barton stared him down, and Loki knew he hoped to see a flicker of fear, anger, anything, in his eyes. But Loki's face remained in that same expressionless mask, smug defiance shining in his eyes, as if the agent and his cronies were nothing more than bugs to be crushed under his boot.

Barton snarled at Loki's lack of reaction. He turned on his heels and stormed out the door, leaving the chained god at the mercy of a dozen sneering, inferior, barbaric mortals.

They converged on him, leering and spitting insults. One genius decided to punch him in the face and, though he felt his lip split, he highly suspected the pathetic mortal had broken his hand as the imbecile howled and clutched the appendage.

They subdued him; he could feel a number of them kneeling on his back and legs, forcing him to the ground as others pinned his arms. He felt as they placed the strange device against his left hand, the cool metal actually soothing to his burning skin.

Suddenly he felt a pressure around his middle finger. The pressure began to increase to the point of pain, and Loki realised they intended to break his fingers.

Could these barbaric mortals not be any more imaginative with their tortures? Idly, Loki wondered what would break first, the vice or his finger?

He soon had his answer as a sickening crack resounded, accompanied by an intense bolt of pain that lanced up his arm. Loki fought to keep his expression neutral and was rewarded when the buffoons' triumphant faces turned to disappointment at his lack of reaction.

They moved on.

Another snap, more dissatisfied faces.

Loki was almost tempted to laugh, really. These fools know nothing of torture. He'd had snake venom repeatedly burn out his heart, he'd had his mouth sewn shut by sausage-fingered dwarfs – he could handle a few broken fingers.

The heat was actually the worst part. It was like being slowly crushed by Surtr's flaming fist, his fire sucking every last piece of moisture from his bones and taking his magic with it.

He felt the vice close around his index finger and braced himself for the pain. Through the crack of bone he heard the door open, but could not see his new spectator through the darkness and his heat-clouded eyes.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" A voice screamed in rage. A voice that he knew very well.

Loki couldn't help himself, he laughed. His split lip reopened and warm blood trickled down his chin but he didn't care.

A few of the agents closest to him looked at him like he was crazy. Until she started yelling, then they all looked quite afraid.

"Out! Everybody out! You're all on report. I'll have you all sorting paper clips and changing diapers in Detention for the Criminally Insane before the day is out! And if I ever see your faces again, I'll shove a bullet so far up your ass that you'll be spitting out metal!"

The tough, burly agents could not get out of his cell fast enough, piling up at the door like a cartoon as they all struggled to get as far away from the fuming redhead as possible.

Loki only laughed harder.

Natasha and Tony exchanged glances. She made her way cautiously over to the hysterical demi-god, reaching out a hand to touch his shoulder and frowning when she felt the temperature of his skin.

"You're burning up." She muttered. Natasha turned back to Tony, "Help me with his chains, will you?" She half whispered.

Loki's laughter subsided then, eyelids fluttering closed to shut out the spinning room. He began to hum, a strange but gentle tune that she didn't know, and Natasha shot him an odd look.

"Either he's delirious with pain or just plain crazy." Stark muttered as he set to work on the shackles. She ignored him, staring at Loki's mangled hand instead.

"They broke his fingers." She whispered. "All of them." And for once, Stark had no witty reply.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Natasha opened the door to her bedroom as Loki and Stark followed her in. The demi-god had one arm wrapped around Tony's shoulders, his other broken hand clutched close to his chest.

Loki pushed past Stark, stumbling towards the bathroom.

"Cold." He muttered as he passed Natasha. The two Avengers gave him a strange look before Natasha turned to give Tony his orders.

"I want the names of all those agents. Then find Fury and call a meeting in the conference room. And I need Bruce and the Medkit from his lab – his hand will need treatment."

"Sure thing." Was all Stark replied, his eyes sliding distractedly to the closed bathroom door as they heard the shower turn on. He left, shutting her door behind him.

Natasha sighed lightly, rubbing a hand over her face before moving to knock gently on the bathroom door. She called out to Loki but received no answer. She tried the door handle and, finding it unlocked, stepped into the tiled bathroom.

Loki was huddled against the shower wall, water pelting at his back. He had stripped off his shirt, but had not even taken off his pants and boots, and she could see the multitude of angry scars which criss-crossed his back, which meant he was not able to use his magic to hide them.

"Loki?" She called, stepping around the puddle that was slowly forming at the open shower door. "Loki, I need to see your hand." She told him, rolling up her sleeves so they wouldn't get wet and reaching for him.

As her hand passed through the water she snatched it back with a gasp, "That's freezing!"

Loki turned to face her finally, shaking his head, "No," he muttered, "not cold, need ice."

Natasha frowned, "Like an ice bath?" Loki hesitated before nodding, his eyes wide and innocent looking for a change. It freaked her out a bit.

She ran him a bath anyway, leaving briefly to raid the kitchen for ice.

He stepped out of the shower, clumsily kicking his boots off but not bothering with his pants as he slipped straight into the freezing water.

She watched him worriedly as he closed his eyes and sunk beneath the water's icy surface for a moment. He resurfaced and let his head fall back against the porcelain.

She studied the look of pain and determination on his face carefully, her eyes roaming down his neck, following the bright blue veins that were now in stark contrast to his pale skin. She noticed more veins straining against the skin of his arm, and the nail-beds of his elegant fingers were tinged blue.

"Loki, it's too cold, you need to get out." She noted worriedly that his lips were also starting to turn blue.

"No, I am fine – but, Natasha, you need to leave." He told her, his eyes still closed.

"What?" She frowned in confusion, "Loki, you'll freeze."

He refused to look at her, eyes squeezed shut. "Leave, Natasha." He commanded, and when she didn't move he raised his voice, "Get out!"

His eyes flew open as he shouted and she gasped. His eyes were blood red.

She stood and left, glancing over her shoulder before shutting the door.

She wandered idly over to her bed and sat down on the edge, wondering what exactly was going on in her bathroom.


	13. The Reunion

Chapter 13. The Reunion

* * *

_Found my faith living in sin, __I'm no hero, guilty as charged_,  
_I'm a whore, a birth of broken dreams,  
This simple answer is never what it seems_

_~ "Search and Destroy", 30 Seconds to Mars_

* * *

Loki sauntered out of her bathroom and Natasha's mouth went dry.

He had a towel slung haphazardly around his hips and was drying his dripping hair with another. She had to admit, she rather liked the way his usually-perfect black hair now flopped haphazardly into his eyes, the ends long enough to cling wetly to his shoulders; it made him look younger, and somehow less burdened by life.

His shattered hand appeared to be fully mended and functioning. His body was covered in a wet sheen from the bath and droplets of water raced down his torso and traced over the contours of perfectly carved abs. His well-defined chest gleamed and the lean muscles in his arm bulged as he rubbed the towel over his head.

Absently, Natasha noticed that his body was scarless, which meant he had regained his magic.

Natasha was, unfortunately, pulled from eye-fucking the god when she heard Bruce's voice.

"Natasha, I have the medkit you asked…oh." He stuttered to a stop as he spotted the half-naked god standing in the centre of her bedroom. "I'll um, come back…later." Banner's cheeks were beetroot-red and he made to leave but Loki stopped him.

"No need, Dr. Banner." He called, and with a wave of his hand, he was fully dressed again. "Though as you can see, my hand is perfectly fine now." He flexed it as proof.

"Ah, well then. Good." Bruce muttered, still a little flustered.

He turned to address Natasha. "Everyone is gathering in the conference room like you asked."

She nodded, her expression hard but she allowed Banner a small smile. "Thank you, Bruce." He made to leave but paused and turned back to Loki.

"Also um, I'm sorry for, y'know, killing fake-you, earlier."

Loki smirked, eyes dancing with humour. "I am rather glad that I managed to outsmart the beast this time." Bruce smiled shyly, unsure what to say, then disappeared down the hallway.

Natasha turned to Loki. She appraised him silently, "They're meeting right now to discuss what to do with you. You came here for a reason, and I have to believe that it wasn't malicious. If we go to the meeting, will you talk?"

He regarded her, and their eyes locked for a moment as he considered his answer.

"Yes." He finally replied. Satisfied, she nodded once.

Natasha knew he was up to something, but he was different to the Loki that came to rule the world and unleash aliens on the city. He was less hostile and more calm, calculating. He was looking for something, and Natasha was going to find out what.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

"Well, well isn't this a cosy little reunion." Natasha shot Loki a sharp look as they entered the conference room, but he merely smiled mischievously back.

The other Avengers looked up as they walked in.

"Um, isn't anyone else slightly concerned that the evil, mass-murdering god is walking around undetained?" Stark looked around for support. Clint nodded in agreement and Steve frowned.

"He is no longer our prisoner." Natasha said sternly, daring anyone to defy her. "Loki has turned himself in willingly and, despite being _tortured_," she spat, glaring daggers at Clint, "he has agreed to cooperate."

Everyone in the room turned to look at Clint for a moment. Clint became flustered under the looks of shock and a little disappointment from his teammates and lashed out at Natasha.

"And why should we believe anything either of you say?" Their eyes met and he stared her down. "You've been compromised." Natasha grit her teeth, preparing to chew Clint out, but someone beat her to it.

"I assure you, Agent Barton, that Miss Romanov's mind, thoughts, and fantasies are completely her own." Loki stepped between her and Clint, and Natasha detected more than a hint of malice in his voice.

Clint's face was painted with rage, "You expect us to believe you? You're the God of Lies! You're a mind-controlling mass-murderer – everyone else may have forgotten about that but I never will!"

Loki's face momentarily turned dark. "I do not believe anyone has forgotten about that."

Everyone was on high alert as the tension between the two became palpable.

Luckily, it was disrupted by Fury before things escalated.

"Hope you guys didn't start without us." Nick Fury marched into the room, trailed by Maria Hill and, to everyone's surprise, Thor.

"Brother!" Though he did not shout, his deep voice filled the room. Thor clasped Loki by the shoulders and shook him as a child would a doll. "Brother, what madness are you concocting now?" He demanded.

Various smirks were seen around the room and even Natasha struggled to keep a blank face at the bewildered and slightly disdainful expression on Loki's face as his brother practically picked him up by the shoulders. Clint slumped back into the corner.

"Thor, do control yourself." Loki berated, and Thor released his brother and stepped back dejectedly. "What tidings of Asgard?" Loki questioned.

"Asgard is well brother, although mother was concerned that you and the Enchantress had eloped together!" She noticed Loki's nose wrinkle in distaste.

Suddenly a flash of pain lanced through her stomach and Natasha grunted softly and rubbed her belly. She didn't think anyone had noticed, but Loki must have as he started towards her, expression concerned.

However, his path was blocked by Clint.

"Don't you go anywhere near her." He hissed, and the two once again returned to their stare-off.

"Okay, let's everybody take a deep breath." Steve held his hands up in a calming motion but was ignored.

"Yeah Fury, muzzle your dog, will you?" Stark waved his hand in Clint's direction. "He's already tortured one person today. Or was that on your orders?" Stark raised an eyebrow at the Director and crossed his arms. Torture was a sensitive issue for Tony.

Hill piped up, "Whether or not they were the Director's orders, you have no authority to question them, Stark."

Thor's voice boomed over everyone, "Torture? What is this speak of torture? Is this how one of Asgard is treated in this realm?!"

Steve interjected, "Not that I condone torture, but the guy is obviously hiding something."

On the other side of the table, Loki and Clint started up again. "If you touch one hair on her head…"

"You'll do _what_, Agent Barton?"

Everyone's voices melded together until the room was filled with a crescendo of shouting and fighting. Natasha rubbed her forehead in exasperation.

This is one of the reasons she preferred working alone. And not with men.

"Guys." She tried to get their attention but was ignored.

"Guys!" She sighed, frustrated, and slammed her fist down on the conference table and bellowed, "HEY! SHUT UP!"

The silence was instantaneous as all eyes turned to her.

"Look, Loki has agreed to _willingly_," she glanced pointedly at Clint, "share information. He is not a threat to us, this time, so I suggest we all listen to what he has to say, then decide what to do with him, okay?" She crossed her arms over her chest, daring anyone to oppose her.

Slowly, they began to take their seats. She glanced over at Loki and was surprised to find a glint of humour in his eyes as he watched her take her own seat on the left corner.

"You say you're of no threat," Fury questioned as he took his seat at the head of the table, "so then, why are you here?"

Loki strode to the other end of the table and stood behind the chair, hands clasped behind his back. He glanced at each of them, eyes lingering on Natasha, before beginning his tale.

"The Chitauri that accompanied me the last time I was on Midgard was but a squadron in their army." He paused as he let that sink in.

Stark let out a low whistle.

"The being who controls the Chitauri is named Thanos."

Thor's brows furrowed in confusion. "Thanos the Mad Titan? I thought he was merely a story mother told us as children."

"I can assure you, he is very real." Loki replied darkly. "His only goal is total and utter destruction of the universe and all Nine Realms. To achieve this, he is after the Infinity Gauntlet, an ancient device built to house and augment the Infinity Gems. There are six Gems which each represent a different facet of the universe – space, time, reality, power, mind and soul."

"But the Gems and the Gauntlet are currently locked in father's vault, brother." Thor laughed. "Thanos would not dare attempt to challenge the might of Asgard!" He beamed as if he had just solved all their problems.

"Don't be a fool, Thor. I have seen Thanos' determination first-hand and felt his wrath. He will stop at nothing to get what he wants. And, let's not forget that you, in all your wisdom and foresight, have rendered the Destroyer to a pile of rubble. What protects the vault now? A handful of guards?"

Thor looked offended, "Guards of Asgard!" he declared, but Loki shook his head.

"He will come, Thor, and he will take what he wants."

He turned to face the rest of them, "There is only one thing that can stop Thanos, and that is the Tablets of Life, Death and Chaos. Only with these three Tablets combined will I have the power to destroy Thanos and send him once and for all to Niflheim."

"Okay, so let me get this straight, this Thanos guys has all the power of the universe in a glove and you'll have, what, three rocks? Is that about right?" Stark questioned sarcastically.

Loki smirked. "Excellent question, Man of Iron. Thanos will only hold the power of the universe if he places _all_ six gems into the Gauntlet."

Thor rubbed at the stubble on his chin. "But brother, if Thanos indeed succeeds in stealing the Gauntlet from father's vault, then he will also have all the gems."

To everyone's surprise, Loki abruptly laughed. "Did you honestly think I sat meekly in my cell on Asgard for all those months, _brother_? No, I knew what was coming and I prepared for it. With the help of Amora the Enchantress, I secretly switched one of the gems and replaced it with a fake. When Thanos gets his hands on the Gauntlet, the power of the other five gems should appease him enough that he will not notice that one is missing."

"And where is this other gem now?" Fury questioned, raising the brow over his one visible eye.

"I have hidden it for now." Loki told them. "It is under a protection spell so that even if Thanos does realise he is not all-powerful, he will not be able to find the missing gem."

Steve spoke up, "So then, that brings us to why you're here, on Earth."

Loki finally took the seat in front of him as he explained. "Long ago, the three Tablets were split up and given to different realms for protection. The Tablet of Life and Time remained in Asgard, the Tablet of Death and Entropy was sent to Alfheim under the care of the Light Elves, and the Tablet of Order and Chaos was sent here, to Midgard. The last records we had of its whereabouts indicated that it was in your Empire State University, but unfortunately, this was not the case."

There was silence for a second, then: "Wait, whoa, back up. There are _elves_? Like pointy ears and bows and arrows and everything?"

"How would we go about locating this missing Tablet, does SHIELD have any records on it?"

"It's a good tactic he has planned out. It could work to our advantage if we catch Thanos off-guard."

"A quest is at hand! I shall aid you brother, in your search for this mystical stone!"

"Wait a second!" Clint spoke up above them all and they quietened. "Why should we help him at all? Think about it, why would Loki, of all people, put himself on the line to save the universe? Clearly, there's some ulterior motive he hasn't told us about."

All heads turned to Loki. He eyed Clint disdainfully before answering. "For one thing, as Thanos intends to destroy the universe and I happen to _live_ in this universe, I would say it would be in my best interests to stop him." He quirked an eyebrow. "But yes, there is another reason. Thanos wanted the Tesseract and threatened me with abhorrent tortures which, I must say, were far more creative than yours Barton, if I did not deliver." He smirked at Clint who snarled back. "Therefore, he will come after me first, and I have no doubts that he will make good on his promise before destroying the rest of the universe."

"So, you get your tablet, you get off our planet, and you take Thanos with you." Clint sneered.

After listening to everyone carefully, Natasha spoke up. "You're willing to put the safety of, not just our planet, but the whole universe, into someone else's hands? I don't know about you, but seeing as I'm also a part of this universe, I'll do whatever I can to save it. That was the point of the Avengers, wasn't it? To fight the battles no one else can?"

She looked around the room at everyone, gauging their reactions. There were nods and uncertain or disapproving faces, but in the end, there was one person who needed to have their say.

"Director, ultimately, it's up to you. We follow your orders."

Fury, who had been silent throughout most of the discussion, sat deep in thought with his fingers steepled together in front of his mouth. It seemed like an eternity before he finally came to a decision.

"If this Thanos character is as powerful as you say he is, then the best course would be a pre-emptive strike. If Thanos succeeds in possessing this Infinity Gauntlet, then we will already have the necessary elements to take him down." Fury's voice was level and severe. "If Thanos takes that Gauntlet, we fight."

He eyed them all individually, "However, to go to war, I need a cohesive team." His one-eyed gaze lingered on Clint for a moment. "This is something no one would have ever expected of you, and there will be no consequences for anyone who does not wish to participate in this mission."

There was a pause as everyone considered the weight of what exactly was happening.

"I'm in." Natasha's gaze was hard and determined.

"I pledge my allegiance to my brother." Thor declared, slapping his hand down on the table loudly.

"I'm your Second-in-Command, as always, Director." Agent Hill assented.

"I'll help however I can." Bruce offered.

"Count me in." Steve nodded sternly.

Tony stroked his beard for a moment, "Are there female elves?" He suddenly asked Loki, "If there are hot elf chicks, I'm so in." He grinned, satisfied, and leant back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head. Loki chose not to reply.

That left only Clint. His frown only deepened as slowly, all eyes turned to him. There was a long moment of apprehension before he spoke. "Fine, whatever." He grumbled, arms crossed angrily over his chest, and Natasha felt everyone let out a collective sigh of relief – it wouldn't have felt right, fighting one team member down.

"I still don't like you though." He growled at Loki, who chuckled darkly.

"Trust me, Agent Barton, the feeling is mutual."

"It's settled then," Fury started, "but first, we'll need to find that tablet. You said it used to be held in the Empire State University, I think I may have some leads on that. SHIELD has the resources to locate the Tablet, when we do, the Avengers will extract it."

Steve looked thoughtful. "What about the other Tablet? The one that's with the elves?" He asked Loki.

"Well, my plan was to steal it and replace it with a fake. However, if it does indeed come down to a war," he glanced to his brother, "perhaps it would be best to send Thor as a diplomatic ambassador. The Ljósálfar are great archers and we could use their skilled warriors in the battle."

"Excellent idea brother! I will also speak to Father and ask him to prepare our finest warriors." Thor declared. Loki nodded in agreement, and as everyone started to break off into their own discussions once again, Fury dismissed them.

"Agent Romanov." Fury called her back as everyone else filed out of the room. She lingered and he waited until everyone had left before speaking.

"Agent Romanov, I'll be blunt." He sized her up before asking, "Are you sure you're up for this?" He eyed her, nodding towards the swell of her belly. "I can have a SHIELD safehouse ready for you in a day. You would be safe there until this was all over. I don't want my best agent K.I.A because she was incapacitated on a battlefield."

Natasha considered Fury's offer, feeling slightly touched that he was concerned for her safety, but ultimately, she knew she could never hide away while her friends were out fighting for their lives.

"Thank you for your concern Director, but I won't leave them. I may not be as capable on the battlefield as usual, but I can still shoot a gun and I still have some medical training. I'll do whatever I can to help."

Fury nodded, accepting her decision. She made to leave but as she reached the door, the Director called her again, "Agent Romanov," she turned, "take care of yourself."

A tiny smile graced her lips; she nodded once and was gone.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

As Natasha passed the door to Thor's room, she paused as she heard heated voices coming from inside. She hesitated, unwilling to eavesdrop but wondering what the two brothers could be fighting about. But before she could make out any words, the door opened, and Loki looked as surprised to see her as she did to have been caught.

"Natasha." He breathed, standing stunned in the doorway, probably wondering if she had heard anything.

"Lady Natasha!" Exclaimed Thor from inside the room. "Do come in, Loki has just told me of the good news!"

Loki stepped aside and allowed her in, his expressionless mask in place once more.

She wasn't sure if she was glad that her belly wasn't yet large enough that people automatically knew she was pregnant, or offended that Thor had just assumed that she'd put on a tiny beer gut over the past few months. Or maybe he really hadn't noticed at all.

"I had not even realised that you and my brother were courting." Thor continued.

"Well, I wouldn't call it _courting_," Natasha objected, "it just kind of…happened."

Loki smirked at her. "Over and over again." He muttered quietly and she couldn't fight the blush from her cheeks.

She hesitated, but decided to ask anyway, "Is this what you two were fighting about before I came in?" The smile slid off Thor's face and he glanced to his brother, who shrugged and strode away to stare out the window.

Thor gazed at his brother's back a moment before deciding to answer her.

"We were discussing you in a sense. I told Loki that I would bring the wonderful news to mother and father when I returned to Asgard, but he forbade me to do so. He does not believe our parents will react well to the news, but I begged to differ."

They both looked thoughtfully at Loki who continued to ignore them.

"Why would your parents not be pleased?" She frowned.

Thor stuttered for a moment, looking highly uncomfortable, before Loki stopped him.

"Thor." He warned, and Natasha was surprised that she picked up on a trace of pain and fear in his voice. He turned from the window to face them, "I will tell her." He stated and walked over to stand in front of her, holding her gaze. "But not here." He said softly.

They left Thor behind and Loki led her up to the rooftop garden. "How did you even know about this place?" She questioned as they wandered along the path to the deck.

Loki smirked, "I would say Stark has a slight bragging problem." He told her and she snorted, that was nothing new.

Loki stopped walking abruptly and Natasha whirled around to face him, but his eyes were on the ground, a frown creasing his forehead. "Natasha," his voice was soft, "I never told you how this one scar came to be." His palm came to rest over his chest, where Natasha knew his largest scar lay under his clothing. "But considering the circumstances, I think it best if you are forewarned of…possible consequences."

Loki closed his eyes for a moment, as if steeling his resolve. He looked almost lost, and Natasha reached forward to take his hand.

Instinctively, he yanked his hand away, but she held his gaze, willing his trust, and he returned his hand to hers.

She led him over to the deck and they sat together on the bench. Natasha remained silent as she waited for Loki to gather his thoughts, but she couldn't help the knot of apprehension that rested heavily in her chest.

"I was in love once," he began, "a long, long time ago, hundreds of years before you were even born. Her name was Lydi'alaera." Her name sounded beautiful on his tongue. "She was a fierce warrior from Svartalfheim, a Dark Elf; breathtakingly beautiful and heart-shatteringly deadly – a lot like you." The corner of his mouth twitched softly.

"We courted for a while and I asked her to marry me," His smile was rueful, "She turned me down. I later found out that she was pregnant with my child. Again I asked her to marry me, and again she turned me down. She was a warrior at heart and always would be. She would not be tied down by husbands or children. I knew I could not keep a spirit as free as hers caged as a tame housewife, so I offered to take the child when it was born and raise it in Asgard, and she would be free to pursue her bloody desires."

He paused, drawing in a deep breath. Natasha pulled his hand into her lap, gently playing with his slender fingers, keeping him rooted in the here and now.

"My father – Odin, told me that the baby born was not a child, but a creature. He said that dark magic had turned the boy into a bloodthirsty wolf and that, for the greater good of all realms, the wolf needed to be locked away, chained to the side of a mountain by unbreakable Dwarf-made metal. The chains were invincible – I know, I tried." Loki's eyes closed as if in great pain.

"He was just a pup." He whispered, voice breaking ever so slightly.

Natasha's heart constricted for him, and she was surprised to find tears pulling at her eyes.

"The scars are the remainder of my punishment for bearing a dangerous monster into the realm of the gods." He trailed off and they stewed in the gloomy silence for a moment before Loki continued.

"When I later found out about my true parentage, I also leant the true reason for my son's banishment. My _father_ thought that the offspring of a Frost Giant and a Dark Elf would be cunning, vicious and deadly, he also worried that the child would reveal my true identity to me and ruin his chance at using me to gain political peace between realms. So when he was born, he turned his own grandson into a wolf and locked him up."

Natasha's face was hard as she took in all this information. Thor had said his brother was adopted, and that their family had many issues which was the main cause of Loki's attempted invasion over six months ago, but none of them knew many of the details. The revelation that Loki had been lied to all his life, had been stripped of his own identity and given a new one, only to be told that his true identity was that of a monster, resonated within her – after all, the Red Room had done the same thing to her.

Natasha had never before considered Loki and Thor's parents, but now, she decided she rather disliked this Odin character.

Natasha didn't quite know what to say to comfort Loki, so luckily for her, he started talking again.

"I visited him often, despite what my father had told me. He did not seem bloodthirsty to me. He was but a shaggy little pup, yapping and bounding around, always eager to play. Though I must say he most certainly took after me, he was a cheeky little thing." Loki chuckled and Natasha smiled, rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand encouragingly.

Loki's mirth didn't last long however, "But, he was incredibly lonely. Sometimes at night, I could hear him howling from the palace. It was…heartbreaking. As the years passed he grew to be enormous and eventually became more wolf than man. These days, he barely speaks to me." Loki's voice faded away, lost in his own memories.

Natasha took both his hands in hers and placed them on her swollen stomach. He looked to her with confusion but she held his gaze determinedly.

"I'm not letting anyone take my baby." She told him sternly, "Not the Avengers, not SHIELD, not any damn _god_. This child will know love and protection always, and it will have the childhood that neither of us were ever allowed." Her gaze softened and she raised one hand to cup his cheek. "I will not abandon this baby. And I will not abandon you."

And Loki leaned forward and kissed her.

It was both passionate and gentle; filled with love and rage, joy and pain, anguish and peace. He pulled her across his lap and their arms wrapped around each other as they put the feelings they could not say into a kiss.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Later that night, as Stark tower slept peacefully, Loki was pulled from a dreamless slumber and into a nightmare.

"Laufeyson, I grow tired of waiting." Thanos' voice boomed across the barren dreamscape that Loki was now stuck in. Loki struggled to collect his thoughts and keep his expression impassive as he probed out hesitantly with his magic, trying to find the link back to his own mind.

"Have you not heard the saying, Titan, that good things come to those who wait?"

Thanos bared his teeth, a ferocious snarl. "Have you not heard the saying, monsterous runt, that I will tear you limb from limb for the rest of eternity should you fail me again!"

The threat made Loki's bones shake but he forcefully willed himself to appear unaffected. He would not show weakness, could not show weakness, not now, not again.

"Timing is everything for this plot to work, Thanos. In due course you will have your precious Infinity Gauntlet, I give you my word."

Thanos barked out a cruel laugh. "You speak as though the word of a worthless blight such as yourself has any meaning to me."

Loki's fists clenched at his sides as Thanos pulled deeply buried memories to the forefront of his mind.

'_No matter how much you claim to __**love me**__-'_

'_I could have done it father!'_

'_No, Loki-'_

'_I only ever wanted to be your equal-'_

But Loki's magic was much stronger than it had been after he'd spent an eternity in the Void, and he could force back Thanos' mind invasion.

The Titan smirked, "Oh, the Frost Giant runt thinks himself strong now. Let me remind you, Laufeyson, what happens should you fail." He loomed closer and suddenly the barren landscape shifted and reformed into what Loki recognised as the volcanic and fiery craters of Muspelheim.

The heat assaulted him, pressing down on him and oppressing his magic. But in the shifting dreamscapes, Loki had felt the bond that led back to his own mind, a faint remnant of magic, like a trail of breadcrumbs leading back to safety.

He reached out, clutching on to the lifeline as Thanos manipulated a nearby stream of lava. He tugged on the link with his mind as his astral body was frozen in place, mouth forced open as the burning sludge tore past his lips and burned through his throat.

With all the strength he had left he pulled on the link, yanking himself away from the stench of his own sizzling flesh, the putrid steam that stung his eyes, away from the heat, the burning, the pain, the pain.

Thanos' laughter still rang in his ears as Loki landed back in his bed in Stark tower. He rolled to the side of the bed and vomited brilliant red. He gasped, painfully pulling air down his scorched and blistered throat as more blood leaked from his mouth and joined the puddle on the floor.

He reached a weak and shaking hand up to clasp his throat and forced himself to concentrate on healing, instead of the white-hot pain. Slowly, slowly, he healed, his throat becoming whole again, the pain dissipating and his breathing becoming easier. His mouth was no longer a bloody hole as lips and teeth and tongue reformed.

Loki flopped back onto the pillows, covered in his own sweat and blood he tried to gather his thoughts, tried to calm himself, tried to regain his strength.

Time passed, hours maybe, before Loki had the energy to sit up again, to clean himself and the room with a wave of his hand.

His mind raced.

Thanos was impatient. He needed to move things along, he needed to make sure everything was ready, that every detail was in place for when Thanos finally possessed the Gauntlet. He would not fail again; he _could not_.

Loki snuck out of his guarded makeshift bedroom in the basement and headed for his brother's room. Thor was leaving for Asgard in the morning and Loki had a favour to ask.

Loki knocked lightly and a bleary-eyed Thor opened it dressed in stripy pyjama pants. "Loki," Thor was surprised, "What are you doing up at such a late hour? Can you not sleep?"

Loki strode past his brother and paced across the room. "I came to ask a favour."

Thor crossed his massive arms over his chest and regarded his brother patiently.

"When you return to Asgard and ask Father to prepare the warriors, I want you to ask something else of him." Loki stopped pacing and met his brother's gaze.

"I want him to release Fenris."

Thor stared in shock and Loki dropped his gaze and began to pace again.

"Brother…" Thor started weakly, but Loki cut him off.

"He will be a great asset in the battle Thor, you know as well as I do how powerful he is. And," Loki paused and looked up out the window, "It's time my son was free." He all but whispered.

Thor stepped up behind his brother and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Safe travels, Thor." And Loki turned away from him and disappeared out the door.

Thor stood alone in the moonlight. He prayed his father would see reason. Loki and his feelings had been disregarded and pushed aside enough for one lifetime.

* * *

**A/N: Lydi'alaera – pronounced Lid-ya-leera**

**I made up Lydi'alaera to take the place of Angrboda because I just can't see Loki sleeping with a Frost Giant when they are supposed to be mortal enemies, and I don't think Loki would do anything at that stage that would make him more of an outcast to the Asgardians than he already was. Also, I'm not counting Hela or Jormungand as Loki's children cause that's just too much explaining lol**

**Please, please, please review! :D**


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